


Worth It All

by literaryoblivion



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baker Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Figure Skater Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Fluff and Angst, Hockey, Ice Crew Member Bitty, Ice Skating, Kissing, M/M, Minor Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight, NHL Player Jack Zimmermann, POV Alternating, Providence Falconers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: After much convincing and cajoling from his friends and coworkers at the bakery, Bitty decides to use his figure skating skills to audition for the Providence Falconers' ice crew. They want to diversify their team and add men, and Bitty thinks it's a wonderful endeavor, one that he'd be proud to be a part of. Getting to meet his long-time crush, Falconers' Captain Jack Zimmerman, is just a bonus.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 166
Kudos: 412
Collections: Going Out With A Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The absolutely lovely edit that goes with this fic can be found [here](https://transzimmermann.tumblr.com/post/615517392826761216/art-for-worth-it-all-goingoutwithabigbang-ao3).

**Bitty**

Bitty should _probably_ be figuring out why there’s beeping; well no, he’s positive it’s the timer going off for his blueberry muffins, but he’s having a bit of a crisis here and all he can focus on is his phone and what it’s displaying.

“Uh, Bitty?” his young, dear, baker in training, also lovingly known as Chowder asks. And, honestly, not even Chowder can distract him at the moment.

“Bitty?” Chowder asks again, his voice louder since he’s closer. “I think the muffins are ready?” When Bitty says nothing, Chowder adds, “Uh, I guess I’ll just get them out then and turn the timer off?”

This time he doesn’t wait for a reply from Bitty; he grabs the closest oven mitt and opens the oven doors to take the tray of muffins out.

 _Good boy,_ Bitty thinks because for the first several weeks of his employment (and tutelage) under Bitty, Chowder had waited until he was told to do something. It’s only been the last week or so that Chowder has finally started to go ahead and do things even though he still asks. Bless him.

“You okay, Bitty?” Chowder asks, and he’s right behind him, asking in his ear, scaring Bitty into jumping and dropping his phone. “Oh man, sorry, Bitty!” Chowder says in a rush, bending down to scoop Bitty’s phone from the ground. He inspects it a little before handing it over. “It seems okay?”

Bitty accepts his phone back and smiles. “Thanks, Chowder, honey. Sorry, I was… distracted. I’m perfectly fine, I promise.” 

“What happened? It must have been something serious to distract you from baking!”

At that Bitty laughs because he and Chowder may have only known each other for a short time, but he seems to have figured Bitty out rather quickly.

“Oh, it was a tweet about something, and I just got excited. It was nothing.” He moves to dump the tray of muffins out onto the cooling rack, but Chowder beats him to it.

“It can’t have been nothing, Bitty. These muffins are definitely a darker color than they normally are.”

Bitty blushes because it’s true, and he’s embarrassed that he let himself get so absorbed in a silly tweet that he forgot to do his job that he gets paid actual money for. “Do you think we need to throw these out? Will Holster notice, you think? Oh no, maybe we should start over--”

“No, Bitty. They’re fine!” Chowder interrupts, almost jumping on top of the muffins to shield them from Bitty’s grabby hands as he tries to throw them in the trash. “No one will notice. They’re perfect!”

“You noticed.”

“That’s only because I’ve been doing this for a while, and this is our fourth batch today alone. The customers won’t notice, and Holster definitely won’t notice.”

“I won’t notice what?” Holster asks as he strolls into the kitchen. “Oh, are those fresh out of the oven?” he exclaims, pointing at the muffins. He takes one, blows on it a little, and then takes a bite out of the top. “So good, man.”

Chowder looks back at Bitty, his face clearly conveying “told you so,” at which Bitty rolls his eyes.

“Nothing,” Bitty says, “and stop eating the merchandise! Do you want to eat yourself out of business?”

Holster shrugs and, around a mouthful of muffin, says, “Ransom takes care of the business stuff. I’m pretty sure he budgets with my appetite in mind. We’re good.”

Bitty rolls his eyes. He knows Ransom is the more business-minded, fiscally responsible of the two coffeeshop-turned-bakery owners, but he figured Ransom had a hand in some of it other than daily operations. Guess not. Bitty doesn’t particularly care or mind, he’s just grateful for the job and that they were both willing to expand their kitchen to become more of a bakery after they discovered Bitty’s talent. 

They’d hired Bitty—who’d been desperate for any job that was close to what he wanted to do—as a part-time baker fresh out of college when the shop they had contracted out to sell a few pre-made sandwiches and desserts went belly-up. But, it was only a matter of time before Bitty’s goods were getting more popular than the coffee, so they made Bitty full-time with a raise and title and remodeled the store to give Bitty more room to work his magic. They gave Bitty full control over the bakery side of things, accepting the cost of whatever Bitty needed, and they even saw fit to give Bitty help, which is how he got Chowder.

With a sigh, Bitty lets Chowder finish pulling the muffins out of the trays. He still needs to make a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies, so he gets started on making the dough. 

“Hey, Bitty, did you hear?” Holster asks, coming up to Bitty and leaning on the counter beside him.

“Hear what, honey?” Bitty says without looking up from where he’s measuring out sugar and butter.

“The Falconers are doing auditions for their ice crew. They’re specifically requesting men to audition!”

Bitty freezes, then tries to shake it off and act casual. “I… may have heard about that, yes.”

“Did you see the tweet about it? Of course you did, you’ve got alerts set up for their stuff.” He says it with a smirk, and Bitty blushes.

“How do you know that?!”

“I’m very observant, my little baker. Just like I noticed this muffin looked a little more done than usual.”

Bitty’s mouth drops open, and he spins around to point an accusatory finger at Chowder, who has the nerve to look sheepish.

“Don’t worry. Still tasted delicious and totally okay for the customers, hence why I ate it to be sure.” He grins wide, and Bitty shakes his head.

“Tweet… is that what distracted you on your phone?” Chowder asks.

“You shush,” Bitty admonishes Chowder. He turns back to Holster. “So what if they do want males to be on their ‘new and improved, diverse ice crew?’” He gives a shrug and goes back to his mixing bowl, trying to remember how much sugar he’d already put into the mixer.

“Dude, Bitty, you have to do it.”

“What?! No. Why?” Bitty shouts, which he should probably keep it down. Also, if Holster is back here, who’s up front? “Holster, don’t you need to be helping customers?”

Holster waves him off. “Tango’s here; he’s manning everything.”

Well, so much for trying to get Holster out of his kitchen.

“Bitty, you’d be perfect for it. You have to audition. I’ve seen your figure skating videos. You’re amazing.”

Bitty’s eyes widen, and he feels his face heat. “You what? No you have not. How did you find those?”

Holster smiles. “You think Ransom and I just hire anybody off the street? We do our research, dude. We’ve seen them all, even the ones when you were in college.”

Bitty buries his face in his hands. He’s pretty sure that means he now has flour all over his face, but god, he’s so embarrassed. “I thought those were buried on the Internet.”

“Ransom is like, really good at finding things online. The Internet is forever after all.”

“Can I see these videos?” Chowder asks, eager.

“No!” Bitty shouts the same time Holster says, “Yeah!” Then, as if he was just itching for the opportunity, Holster pulls out his phone and hands it to Chowder, one of Bitty’s figure skating videos on screen.

Trying to ignore both of them, because now Holster has sidled up to Chowder and their focus is on the phone screen in Chowder’s hands, Bitty goes back to mixing dough.

“Wow, Bitty, this is amazing!” Chowder exclaims.

“Just wait, there’s this one move he does,” Holster mutters, pointing at the screen, “there see? So beautiful.” Chowder hums in agreement.

“That was many years ago,” Bitty says, putting his hand over the screen to pause the video, to which both Chowder and Holster whine in disapproval. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“You don’t have to! You just need to push a shovel to clean up ice. No tricks involved!” Holster exclaims. “Besides, I know for a fact you still go to the ice rink to practice.”

“Are you stalking me or something?”

“Nah, I have a buddy who works at the rink. And he recognized you because he knows the baked goods from here that you give to the front desk.”

Blushing, Bitty feels like he has to defend himself. “I just figured they deserved something sweet to eat during their breaks.”

“And he appreciates it, he does. Bitty, this would be the perfect opportunity for you to meet HIM. Do it for all of us!”

“Who’s HIM?” Chowder asks, completely, blessedly clueless.

“No one!” Bitty says, wanting desperately for someone to save him from this kitchen.

“HIM is _the_ Jack Zimmerman, captain of the Providence Falconers, son of hockey legend Bad Bob Zimmerman, and one of the most beautiful men playing hockey today.”

“Ohhhhh.” Chowder’s voice is full of the appropriate amount of awe and understanding that warrants such a declaration. Bitty shakes his head.

“If I weren’t in love with someone else, I would be in love with Jack Zimmerman. He’s gorgeous and that _ass_.” Holster sighs like he’s picturing it.

“Who is this someone else you’re in love with?” Bitty asks.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Bits,” Holster says, and Bitty slumps. “We all know how much you have a crush on Zimmerman, and now you actually have the chance to not only meet him but _work_ with him. Why are you not jumping at this?!”

“Because! Because… I… I don’t want to get my hopes up. What if I completely screw it up? What if I can’t do it and do this? I love this job. I don’t need to push ice around a rink.”

“You know we’d work with you. Chowder can handle things around here, can’t you, Chow?”

Chowder’s eyes grow large, and he starts stammering, saying things like “uh, I mean, I guess if I had to, but I don’t know….” Bitty sighs because now Holster’s ruined the progress he’s made.

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” Bitty says, trying to calm Chowder down. “I wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t feel ready.” Chowder seems to visibly relax at this and nods.

“Holster, will you please leave us to our baking?”

Hesitating, Holster relents and starts backing out of the kitchen. “At least think about it, Bitty? I think you’d be great at it. Ransom and I can work something out with you, we swear. You can do both, I know you can.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bitty finally says because Holster still hasn’t left the kitchen. With a grin, he does finally leave, the door swinging behind him. “Come on, Chowder, help me with this cookie dough so you know the measurements.”

~

He’s here. He’s really here.

Bitty almost can’t believe he made it, not only to the actual audition but all the way to the finalist training camp.

After much bugging and prodding from Ransom, Holster, and Chowder and even some gentle queries from Dex, another coworker, Bitty had baked triple batches of everything for every day he wasn’t in, set aside extra dough, just in case, for Chowder to make if they ran out, and went to the Falconers ice crew auditions.

He wasn’t expecting it to be such a long process, but after several days of skating practice, ice shoveling demonstrations, dance and cheer practice with the original ice girls, he’d made the cut for the finalists. There were also quite a few men that had showed up that initial day, more than Bitty had thought there’d be. 

But now it's down to twelve including him, and Lardo, the Falconers’ employee handling the ice crew (and who Bitty suspects is the brainchild of making it diversified), is explaining why there is only room for five men this season.

They're starting small. Considering how much of an uproar the Philadelphia Flyers experienced from their fans several years ago by instituting a male-only ice crew (that they quickly took away to revert back to their all female one to appease the hordes), the Falconers, though not worried their fans would react in such a way, want to ease them into it to avoid possible outcry. The Falconers have one of the only female assistant GMs in the league, so Bitty doesn’t think there’ll be a backlash from fans, but there’s always naysayers and complainers for any kind of change.

Though he hasn’t interacted much with Lardo, he likes her. She seems laid back and calm but incredibly organized and won’t take guff from anyone. Part of Bitty wants to make sure he gets one of those five spots just so he can get to know her better.

The other part of him wants one of those five spots because despite all the work and time this has taken, he hasn’t felt more excited and at home since he’d baked his first apple pie in the brand new industrial oven Ransom and Holster installed for him. Even though he hasn’t skated competitively in several years, skating now, trying to beat out the others in try-outs, it’s like he’s been doing this forever. It’s amazing, and he’s missed it.

He loves and adores baking, always will, but being on the ice, skating or dancing to music, showing off to a crowd, it gives him a thrill that reminds him of when he was at figure skating competitions, doing his best to nail every jump and move. Ransom wasn’t lying when he said that Bitty still goes out on the ice in his free time. 

He skates around and does tricks, parts of his old routine that are so much a part of him that he’ll never forget them. But it’s different just skating around on his own with no one else around for no reason other than for fun and to keep himself in shape, to prove to himself he can still do that triple axel that had taken months, bruises, and blood to achieve.

It’s good, but not the same. It makes him regret having to stop, choosing to quit to focus more on school, to get good grades to go to college instead of continuing to improve and travel the world to skate his routine. His skating coach Katya sure wasn’t happy with his decision, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. He could only put his parents through so much, both financially and physically (they moved so many times for him to get him closer to practices and away from bullies). 

So he took all the time and effort he had dedicated to skating and put it toward school and got himself a scholarship to Samwell. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something, and the rest he paid for with student loans (which he’s still repaying and probably will be until he’s old and gray). It was worth it though; he loved his time at Samwell. In fact, that’s how he started getting into hockey. He’d stumbled into one of the famous hockey team’s house parties and ended up using their kitchen to bake something, and they never let him leave.

“Okay, you guys can take a fifteen minute break, and then we’ll start the personal interviews,” Lardo shouts out. 

Bitty skates to the bench where his bag and water bottle are and takes a big gulp. He almost chokes when Lardo walks toward him, eyes fixed on him like an eagle eyeing its prey.

“I think we’ll start with you first, Bittle. I have questions. Come over to the locker room when you’re ready.

Quickly, Bitty bobs his head. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be right... there.”

But Lardo had walked away from him as soon as he had said yes.

Taking a few more gulps of water and a few more deep breaths to calm his fast beating heart, Bitty straightens his clothes and pushes his hair back. He wishes he had a mirror because he doesn’t think his sweaty, red-faced self is a good interview look, but it’s not like Lardo hasn’t seen him like this already.

He pauses, unsure if he should take off his skates or not, and decides his guards will do since he’ll likely need to skate more after the interview. He’s spent plenty of time walking around in his skates, so it’s not a big deal.

With guards on, hair and clothes mostly in place along with a warm smile, Bitty makes his way down the tunnel to the locker room they’ve all been using. He knows it’s the Falconer’s dressing room, but it’s the off season so there are no names or equipment on the shelves. Despite that, Bitty still gets a tiny thrill being in the space, seeing the logo everywhere, and knowing that Jack Zimmerman has stood in this room before.

He moves past the lockers to the office to the side and sees Lardo behind the glass talking with an older man he’s seen around the practice along with Vicki, the ice crew coordinator.

As soon as Lardo spots him through the glass, she waves Bitty inside. 

“Hello, ma’am’s, sir,” Bitty says with a smile, nodding at each of the others in the room. 

“Come on in, Eric,” Lardo says, gesturing at a seat in front of the table. The three of them sit on the opposite side. On the desk are a couple stacks of papers, and Bitty recognizes one of the stacks as the applications they submitted. He can’t quite tell what the other stacks are, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s snooping, so he sits and lets his gaze land on Lardo.

“We had a few questions we wanted to ask about your application and also to get to know you a little better. You know, see if your personality would be a good fit with the others,” Vicki says, smiling. 

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Such a gentleman!” Vicki titters. She makes it seem like she’s never had anyone treat her that way, and it might well be true. Bitty has come to find no one is quite used to his Southern manners in New England.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” the man beside Vicki states, holding his hand out for Bitty, which he shakes. “I’m Jason, part-time marketing associate, part-time mascot.”

Bitty’s eyes widen slightly. “You’re Divebomb the Falconer?” He knows his voice comes out a little awed, and he’s embarrassed by it but tries to clear his throat to play it off.

Jason laughs. “Yeah, but not always. We have another guy who does it more often and always during games. I’m mainly available for when we have to go to a school or charity event. I’m focused on our marketing more often than I play mascot.”

Bitty nods, slightly chastened about thinking there was just one person behind the costume. There’s probably even more than one costume, too. He feels silly thinking otherwise.

“Eric,” Lardo starts, “may I ask why you would like to be on the ice crew?”

Pausing to gather his thoughts, he realizes he can’t say something like “to meet the players.” He’s already heard from the ice girls that have practiced with them that they aren’t allowed to fraternize with any of the hockey players on or off the ice. Not that that was the only reason he wanted to be on it.

“As a former figure skater, I’ve always loved being on the ice, and I enjoy learning routines. When I heard about the initiative y’all were doing to include men on the ice crew and diversify, I wanted to be a part of that.” Bitty looks down at his hands, nervous to continue but feeling like he should. “I know what it’s like to be afraid to be yourself, to not see yourself in the things that you love or to feel like you can’t do something because of what people might say. I want to help others to not feel that way and to show that you can be who you are and be included.”

Slowly, Bitty raises his gaze from his lap to look at the others. Vicki is holding her hand to her chest, eyes shiny, and Lardo is giving him a small, pleased smile. Jason has a similar, slightly wider smile on his face.

Lardo is the first to break the moment. “I’m glad you mentioned the figure skating. Can you speak more about that?”

Bitty nods and explains how he started when he was young, won a few medals and awards when he did it professionally, but ultimately decided to pursue an education rather than continue skating. He doesn’t go into details about why he stopped, and Lardo doesn’t ask, for which he’s grateful. 

“I think that’s all the questions we have for now, Eric,” Lardo says, looking to Vicki for confirmation.

Vicki nods, “Thanks for meeting with us. You can finish your break with the others, and we’ll start up again in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, ma’ams, sir. It was a pleasure, and thank you for this opportunity.” Bitty stands, shakes each of their hands, and then leaves the office and the locker room.

When he gets back out to the rink, most of the others are sitting on the bench checking their phones, drinking water, or talking with each other. He approaches his own water bottle nearby some of the group, and a few of them go quiet and turn to him.

“So how was it?” one of the guys asks. Bitty thinks his name is Kyle, but he’s not entirely sure. 

He shrugs. “It was fine. Just a few questions. I think they want to get to know us, see if we’ll fit in with them personality-wise.”

The other guys seem to nod in understanding and then go back to their previous conversation, leaving Bitty to his own devices. He grabs his water bottle and sips it while he pulls his phone from his bag. He has a text from Ransom asking how things are going, so he sends a quick reply of “everything is fine.” He has a few from Chowder, one asking where the extra cookie dough is and then another one that says, “Nevermind, I found it! Don’t worry, Bitty, I got this!”

Despite what the text says, Bitty is slightly worried, so he texts Holster to make sure his kitchen hasn't burned down, and all he gets in return is, “Knock ‘em dead, Bits! We got it all handled here. Don’t worry, your kitchen is safe in my hands.”

Again, it doesn’t put Bitty at ease, but there isn't much he can do from here, so he ignores his anxiety. Vicki and Lardo emerge, and he puts his phone away in his bag and stretches. Lardo pulls aside one of the guys while Vicki hands a piece of paper to a few of the ice girls who have been helping with their training and then follows Lardo and one of the other finalists back to the locker room.

The two ice girls call the guys back over to the rink, and Bitty follows along, readying himself for more skating, and memorizing routines he might never get to perform in front of an audience.

~

At the end of the day when Lardo pulls him aside and offers him a pen and a contract on a clipboard, he almost can’t believe it.

“I made the crew?” Bitty asks in shock, staring at the contract Lardo’s holding out between him.

“Are you kidding? You were the best out of everyone. Don’t tell the others that though,” she says with a wink. “If you need time to look over the contract and think about it, that’s fine, but we need an answer by tomorrow. Pre-season’s about to start, and you need to start learning and memorizing the shovel pattern with the other crew members and some of the other routines we haven’t gotten to yet.”

Bitty shakes his head. “I don’t need time. I’ll do it.” He takes the pen from Lardo and signs his name. He should probably read through the whole contract, but he’s too excited to do it now and really process what it says.

Lardo takes the pen and papers from his hand. “I’ll get you a copy for your records. I’m looking forward to working more with you, Eric.”

“It’s Bitty, please. Call me Bitty.”

With a warm smile, Lardo nods. “Bitty, then. Vicki will get you the practice schedule, and we’ll measure you for your uniform and skates and all that. She’ll email you everything. Welcome to the Falconers’ ice crew, Bitty.” She holds out her hand, and Bitty shakes it with a grin.

“Thank you so much. I can’t wait to start.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Jack**

Jack slings his equipment bag over his shoulder and heads inside the arena. He’s incredibly early, both for the day but also for the time of year, but everyone knows this is how he is. He tries to take as long of a break from hockey during the summer as he can, but he can’t help but want to get back into his routine of exercise, skating, and practice. 

He keeps up with his training in the off-season in Quebec when he visits his parents for a little while and at his cabin he lives in during the summer. However, he needs to get back to the familiarity of the rink in Providence, of the spacious condo he’s called home for the last several years. A few of the other guys stay in Providence year-round or come back early as well, so he knows he can call up a few to come practice and workout with him. But he also enjoys the quiet of the rink and having it all to himself.

It’s a Sunday, and though the rink is open certain times for public skates and other rec leagues to practice on, Jack made sure it’d be available for when he planned to come. While he isn't expecting the rink to be completely devoid of people, he’s at least expecting the ice itself to be empty. So when he swings past the entrance doors and sees someone skating, he stops in his tracks.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Zimmerman!” Roy, the rink maintenance manager, calls as he approaches Jack. “How was your summer?”

Switching his expression from shock and annoyance to casual pleasure is difficult, but Jack does his best. “Hey, Roy. It was good. Ready to get back into things.”

Roy laughs and shakes his head. “You work too hard, Mr. Zimmerman. Breaks are good!”

“I had one!” Jack jokes, knowing that Roy gives him a similar line at the beginning of every summer. “Say, uh, who’s the kid? Was there a teenage league practice I didn’t know about? I thought I could have the rink to myself for a little while.”

Confused, his brow furrowed, Roy looks at Jack and then to the rink and stares a little before laughing and turning back to Jack. “Oh, no Jack, that’s no teenager. He’s part of the Falconers’ ice girls, well crew now.”

“Ice crew?” Jack tries to remember if there was an email he missed because last he knew the Falconers’ ice girls were just that and not a “crew” that included men.

Seeming to read his mind, Roy nods. “There are a few men this year. Something about diversity they said? They’re pretty good.” He thumbs over his shoulder at the boy, well _man_ Jack supposes, skating. “I told him he could skate longer until you came in. I can tell him to go now.”

Jack stops him. “No, it’s okay. I still need to change. He can have a few more minutes.”

Roy nods. “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Jack says with a smile. He takes one more look at the small blond-headed man skating around the ice and then retreats to the changing rooms to drop off his equipment and get dressed.

When Jack emerges again, dressed to get on the ice, the blond is on the edge of the ice talking with Roy, who is presumably telling him he needs to leave. Part of Jack feels bad for being the reason the guy has to exit the ice; if he’s anything like Jack, being on the ice is one of the few places he feels comfortable and in control. He’s not sure this guy is like that, but if he had wanted extra time on his own, he must at least enjoy the solitude on the ice like Jack does.

Slowly, Jack approaches, watching as Roy gives him a wave and walks away while the blond starts skating towards the bench where Jack sees the rest of his things. Jack steps beside the bench with the intention of apologizing only he’s beaten to the punch.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Zimmerman. I didn’t realize you had reserved the ice, and I just got lost in my own head skating around,” the man says in a rush. His cheeks are pink, and Jack can pick up a southern accent, though he’s not sure from where exactly. Closer up, Jack can see how lean the man is, how brown his eyes are, how cute his up-turned nose is. He’s attractive, and it makes Jack nervous.

“Uh, that’s okay,” Jack finally says, watching the man unlace his skates. “I’m sorry for making you leave sooner than you wanted.”

The man looks up, eyes wide. “Oh, honey, no. I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did anyway.” He gives Jack a half-smile, and Jack finds himself smiling back.

“Roy tells me you’re on the ice… crew?” Jack asks, pausing because he can’t quite remember if they have a better name.

“Yes, sir. Lord, where are my manners!” He drops his skates on the ground beside him and stands, holding out his hand for Jack to shake. “I’m Eric, but everyone calls me Bitty. They added a few men to what was the ice girls, so now we’re the ice crew.”

Jack shakes his hand. “I’m Jack. Nice to meet you, Bitty.”

Bitty grins and flushes even more. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Jack.” There’s a moment where they both stand there staring at each other, and Jack can feel himself get more and more nervous about it. Should he say something else? Should he tell Bitty he can skate more, that they can share the ice? He doesn’t really want to share, but part of him wants to talk more with Bitty.

“Well, let me get out of your hair,” Bitty says, breaking the silence. He bends over to pick up his skates and his duffle and water bottle, and Jack tries not to stare as he does. 

“I guess that means I’ll be seeing you around more?” Jack asks when Bitty stands again and moves past him.

Bitty grins. “I guess you will. Have a good practice,” Bitty says with a wink before walking away. Jack is glad Bitty had turned around and left before he could see how much that wink had affected Jack.

This season may prove to be more difficult than he thought, and not because of hockey.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bitty**

It’s only a preseason game, but Bitty is incredibly nervous. It’s his very first game on the ice crew, and he’ll be featured along with the four other guys that made it on the team. They’ll be announced before the game, and then they’re doing a special performance during the first intermission with the other ice girls. This introduction is to get the fans used to seeing guys mixed in. Bitty’s just hoping it turns out better than what happened for the Flyers’ ice crew.

Bitty has the intermission routine down; it’s fairly simple, given it doesn’t involve skating, but he also isn't big enough or strong enough to lift the girls like some of the other guys, so they had to alter the choreography slightly for him. He doesn’t mind, but he knows people are bound to say something about it, will say something anyway about them being part of the dance routine as well as shoveling the ice. He just hopes he won’t hear it directly. It’s taken a long time for Bitty to be happy and okay and proud in his own skin, and he refuses to let possible naysayers and homophobes affect him now.

He pulls on his uniform pants and then sits on the bench seat in the locker room to pull on and lace his skates. The other four men are also getting ready in the room, but they all seem to be just as nervous as Bitty.

Most of the women on the ice crew are already dressed and out on the concourse greeting fans. The ones not on the concourse are checking the shovels and lining them up in the tunnel where Bitty and the other men are supposed to meet them soon. They’ve practiced the pattern several times at this point, but they’re going to talk it through one more time before the game. When they practiced, they didn't have a ton of snow to shovel, and Bitty hopes that he has the strength to push the snow across the rink and not fall flat on his face while he does it. What a debut that’d be!

Because it’s preseason, Bitty was able to get a few free tickets to the game for Dex, Chowder, Ransom, and Holster. He’s not exactly sure where they’re sitting, but he’s almost positive he’ll hear them when he’s on the ice and can figure it out. They seem to be more excited about Bitty getting on to the ice crew then he is.

When he found out he’d made it, he’d driven straight to the coffeeshop to tell them. In a rare moment, both Holster and Ransom were there, and Chowder practically ran from the back kitchen when he heard Holster yell Bitty’s name. Bitty couldn’t hide the grin, and when he broke the news, all three of them surrounded Bitty in a group hug and shouted. Bitty was just grateful that there was only one patron in the shop who seemed unfazed by the commotion (Bitty later noticed the customer had headphones in).

Ransom and Holster had both reassured Bitty they’d work with his schedule, that whenever he had to leave for practice or games they’d work something out with him. He knew as much before when he went into the audition, but having it emphasized again was a relief. He’s still not quite sure how staying late for an evening game and getting very little sleep before he has to wake up early the next day to start baking is going to work, but maybe he can plan ahead, make extra dough and things for Chowder to start like he had while he was doing auditions and training.

“Ready?” one of his fellow ice crew members, Dustin, asks, interrupting Bitty’s thoughts.

Bitty checks his skates one last time, then stands. “Yes, sir. Let’s go!” Dustin smiles and leads the way out of their changing room and down towards the tunnel. 

He’s still getting to know the others on the ice crew, but Bitty has noticed that Dustin talks to him more than the others. He thinks it’s because of the mini pies he brought their first practice, but Bitty appreciates having conversations with him. The others are nice, but they haven’t had much time outside of practices to really get to know one another. Bitty’s hoping to change that and plans on bringing more baked goods next practice to ease the way.

“Okay, you guys all know your positions, correct?” one of the veteran ice girls asks them. They all nod, and she shows them the chart that has the clearing pattern on it. “If you’re not sure when you get out there, ask one of us,” she points to the other girls who have been on the ice crew for a few years now, “and we’ll help you. It’s preseason, and we don’t have to worry about timing with commercials, so it’s okay if it takes a little longer.”

They all nod in understanding, and she gives them a warm smile. “Great!” She continues, “We have a few more minutes before they’ll introduce us and then we’ll hang out here until we have to clear the ice.”

The rest of the crew mutter affirmations and talk amongst themselves while the Zambonis take their final lap to smooth the ice from warm-ups. Bitty is standing beside Dustin who looks visibly nervous, bouncing a little on his skates as if it will help get his jitters out.

“You’ll be fine, honey,” Bitty reassures him with a pat on his arm. The pat gets Dustin to freeze, and as he turns his head to look at Bitty, his eyes are as wide as saucers.

“I just, what if I totally fall flat on my face when we skate out there?”

“Oh, sweetie, I’ve seen you skate. You’re a natural. And if you fall, you’ll just get right back up, smile, and keep going. Trust me, I’ve had to do it plenty.”

Confused, Dustin frowns. “When?”

Not wanting to go into details, Bitty shrugs. “In another life I was a figure skater. I fell plenty. In the middle of competitions, too. You just gotta keep going with your routine and finish and hope you land the next jump.”

“You were a figure skater?” Dustin asks with awe, which Bitty will take over disdain any day.

He waves it off. “It was a while ago.”

“That’s so cool,” Dustin replies, and it makes Bitty stand a little taller in his skates.

“Okay, almost time! Ready?” one of the ice girls interrupts. They all nod and stand a little straighter, forming a line behind the veteran ice crew members as they wait for the PA to announce them.

“And now, put your hands together as we introduce your new 2020-2021 season Falconers’ ice crew!” a loud voice booms over the speakers, and the girls step out onto the ice under the spotlight. 

As if gearing himself for battle, Dustin takes a deep breath, gives Bitty a firm nod, and steps up in line to skate out. Bitty shakes his head with a smile and follows him out onto the ice.

Most everyone starts cheering louder when the men at the end of line start making their way on the ice. When Bitty skates on, last, he can hear a few snickers and boos from people leaning over their entrance, but they’re drowned out by all the excited yells and applause. It gives Bitty a boost, like maybe they really can pull this off and he can help pave the way for not only the Falconers, but other NHL teams and fans to open their minds and be more accepting.

Just as quickly as they came out, they do a lap and leave again. The PA starts to announce the Falconers, the starting line-up, and then the game is underway. Bitty stands with the boys hovering near the ice to see the players skate out of their own entrance, through a falcon’s mouth no less. He knows that as captain, Jack comes out last, but he enjoys seeing the other players as well, even if he’s really just looking for Jack.

After that initial meeting with Jack in August, Bitty had only run into him a handful of other times in passing when one of them was leaving or coming on to the ice. Usually Jack just gave a nod of hello and went into his routine, not saying anything more to Bitty no matter how desperately Bitty wanted to talk, or hell, even share the ice with Jack. But he knew he wasn’t even supposed to be near Jack, had been told by multiple ice girls they were supposed to leave the players alone, had even signed a contract about it! 

Didn’t stop him from wishing, though it did stop him from pushing the envelope. He accepted the nods, the occasional small smile, and one time a half wave across the ice (though he’s not sure it was actually to him or if Jack was just pushing his hair from his face), and nodded, smiled, and waved back. It was fine, and it was as good as it was going to get, so Bitty accepted it. No one on the ice crew knew about his crush, and his coworkers at the bakery who did wouldn’t say anything (because he threatened them with no extra pies to take home if they even uttered a tease about it while he was doing anything hockey related).

The crowd gets louder when Jack’s name is announced, and Bitty can’t help but grin and clap when he sees Jack, face serious and determined, step onto the ice and skate to the blue line next to his teammates. Even though this is a preseason game, Jack appears as if this game could make the difference between them having a playoff spot or not. Bitty knows Jack is fairly serious when it comes to hockey, can tell that even from the limited interactions he’s had with him and from the interviews he’s seen. 

Bitty hopes Jack gives himself a little break and time to relax now and then, but somehow he doesn’t think Jack does. Part of him wants to be the one that gets Jack to relax, but there’s no place for those thoughts now. He can’t ever be that person and still be on the ice crew, and the last thing Bitty wants is to jeopardize his hard fought spot because he can’t control his crush on the team captain.

Once the team and staff have taken their spots, the anthem sang, and the puck dropped, there isn't much for the ice crew to do but stand at the ready for the first stoppage of play. When that moment finally comes, Bitty is nervous but confident, and he’s proud that he can push all that snow and still skate. It’s heavier than he thought it’d be, but once he has a momentum going, it’s smooth sailing.

The rest of the game goes well, with most of the new ice crew members getting the pattern down and only flubbing a few times here and there. The mistakes are all minor, and Bitty doubts any fans would really notice. Dustin seems to calm down more and more every time they go out, and Bitty is glad he’s getting his confidence. 

At one point, toward the end of the game, Bitty has to say a polite “excuse me” to Jack, of all people, because Jack is standing on the ice right in Bitty’s path. Jack absentmindedly skates away, and then as if realizing who it is, he stops before he’s cleared the path.

“Excuse me,” Bitty says again, smiling and glancing down at the shovel in his hands and Jack standing in his way. He’s cute, sure, but Bitty has a job to do, not to mention the whole no fraternization clause.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Jack says. Still not moving and instead staring at Bitty with wide blue eyes. Bitty loves and hates the attention Jack is giving him right now, and he can feel his face redden because the other ice crew members are already on their second lap around the ice with their snow.

“Zimboni, move,” Alexi Mashkov says, shoving Jack gently in the arm, which effectively pushes Jack out of Bitty’s path.

“Oh, sorry,” Jack mumbles, skating even further out so that Bitty can skate past him with his shovel.

Bitty doesn’t look back at Jack, though he wants to, because he has to finish his job, and it appears as if he’s one of the last ones on the ice. He skates quickly and pushes his shovel of snow into the open gate where others are shoveling it into a bucket. He glides back to where the ice crew members are in the tunnel, and steps off the ice and leans his shovel against the railing with the others. He gingerly walks back to Dustin who is standing at the back of their group staring at Bitty with wide eyes.

Curious, Bitty asks, “What is it, honey?”

“Did… were you talking to Jack Zimmerman?”

Face heating, Bitty shakes his head. “I wouldn’t call that talking? I just said ‘excuse me’ because he was in my path.”

“But he said something to you, didn’t he?”

Bitty shrugs, “He said ‘hi?’ And then ‘sorry’ when he moved.”

“He said hi?” Dustin asks, voice still a mixture of awe and shock.

Bitty laughs. “Sweetie, it’s not a big deal.”

Another of the male ice crew members chimes in, “Jack Zimmerman never talks to anyone, at least that I’ve noticed. I saw him once at the rink and asked how he was, and he kept walking past and didn’t say a word.”

“Maybe he didn’t hear you?” Bitty suggests.

Another crew member beside them shakes his head. “I saw it. Rachel told me he doesn’t talk to anyone on the ice crew.”

“Well, we’re not technically supposed to be doing anything with the players anyway,” Bitty says, defending Jack. He might not know Jack well, but he doesn’t seem like the type to be blatantly rude on purpose. “Maybe he’s avoiding the appearance of possibly breaking the rules?”

“So that’s why he said hi to you?” Dustin asks, an eyebrow raised.

Bitty’s face heats because Dustin has a point, and honestly, he has no idea if that was what Jack was doing. And it’s not just a ‘hi’ that Jack’s spoken to him anyway if he counts the conversation they had a while back.

“I, uh, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like he knows who I am other than I’m on the ice crew. I doubt it’ll happen again,” Bitty says in a rush, doing his best to will away his blushing cheeks and embarrassment. He doesn’t want to keep talking about this.

Seeming to sense Bitty’s flustered demeanor, Dustin clears his throat and asks the other two what they’re doing this weekend after practice. Bitty is grateful for the subject change and that the attention is no longer on him. He doesn’t want to be singled out or to have anyone else notice that Jack has apparently only talked to him, even though secretly it makes him feel kind of special, like maybe there’s a reason Jack talks to Bitty (if it can be called talking).

When they’re on the ice the rest of the game, it goes smoothly, and Jack isn’t in his way again. Bitty tries not to look toward the bench and focuses on his job. When the game is over and Bitty’s changed out of his uniform and skates, equipment bag slung over his shoulder, he comes out onto the concourse to cheers and yells from Ransom, Holster, Chowder, and Dex.

“YOU WERE AWESOME!” Holster shouts, pulling Bitty into a bear hug, making Bitty laugh and groan while he’s smothered against Holster’s chest.

“I was just shoveling snow. It wasn’t a big deal,” Bitty replies, partially muffled as he tries to push away from the hug.

“But you were so graceful about it,” Ransom chimes in. “Not just anyone can do it!” Chowder and Dex nod in agreement next to him.

Bitty rolls his eyes with a grin. “Thanks. I’m glad y’all could come.”

“Of course, Bits!” Ransom says.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Holster adds. “Let’s celebrate!” He pulls Bitty into his side with an arm over his shoulder and walks them to the exit, the others following beside them.

“So, did Jack say something to you?” Chowder asks, quiet, as the group of them walk toward their cars in the parking lot. It’s mostly cleared out now, only a few, probably staff and arena workers’, cars left there.

“I said excuse me since he was in my way,” Bitty says with a shrug. “He said ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ and that was it. Nothing special.”

Chowder listens and doesn’t add anything more on that subject. “You were really awesome, Bitty. Did you have fun?”

Bitty smiles because, lord, Chowder is precious. “I did! I’m excited for the rest of the games and to see what else I might get to do. Lardo said something about recording videos in the next few weeks before the official season to introduce us, and I get the feeling she’s going to ask about my past skating.”

“Maybe she’ll have you do some tricks! That would be so awesome!”

“Ha ha, maybe! We’ll see,” Bitty says, kind of hoping it doesn’t happen but knowing his luck, probably will. “Come on, we’re going to get _one_ drink, and then I gotta get to bed so I can wake up to bake tomorrow morning!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Jack**

It’s late afternoon, and Jack finds himself on the Falconers’ website. He tells himself it’s so he can review what his new teammates have said about themselves in their intro videos, which is partially true. Except he was there when they were recorded, so it’s not like he really needs to watch it.

The season is in full swing, but they have a rare few days off before they leave for a four-game road trip. Jack is very much about routine, so he often is at a loss for what to do on the days off besides work out, eat protein, rest, and review tape. He considers watching these interviews as part of his tape review. He’s getting to know his teammates, their personalities, how they are with the media as opposed to in the locker room or with him.

As he’s clicking through the videos--there isn’t many yet since their PR team tries to spread the videos throughout the course of the season--he comes across another series called “Meet the Falconers’ Ice Crew.” Wondering if Bitty’s video is included, he clicks the link.

Sure enough, there’s one titled “The Men of the Ice Crew” and contains interviews from the five new men they added this year. Jack watches with mild interest as each of them introduce themselves, talk about how excited they are to be part of the crew, and about the new initiative. During Bitty’s parts, Jack sits up and pays closer attention.

 _“I’m Eric Bittle_ ,” the video version of Bitty says, “ _but most everyone calls me Bitty. Guess it’s my hockey nickname_ ,” he adds with a wink to the camera. Jack tries to ignore the flutter in his stomach. It’s not like it’s directed at him.

“ _I’m so excited to be on the Falconer’s Ice Crew!”_ video Bitty continues. “ _I’m a huge fan of the Falconers, and when I heard they wanted to diversify their ice crew, I jumped at the chance.”_

Then the video cuts to what appears to be old footage of someone figure skating, doing jumps and tricks. The footage zooms in, and it’s a very young Bitty, smiling wide as he lands a jump and holds a pose. He’s wearing a very sparkly sequined outfit, and though he can’t be sure, Jack thinks he might be wearing makeup. Or maybe the flush on Bitty’s cheeks is from exertion. The video cuts to a few more jumps and spins before it cuts back to present Bitty who buries his reddened face in his hands.

“ _Lord!_ ” Bitty mutters into his palms. Someone off camera says something that’s hard for Jack to pick up, but it sounds like, “Come on, tell us about it.”

With a huge sigh, Bitty finally lifts his face and, with a resigned look, stares straight into the camera and says, “ _Y’all, just a warning, remember the Internet is forever._ ” He looks back at someone off camera and says, “ _Yes, when I was younger I did figure skating. I didn’t come to the ice crew by way of hockey like the other guys._ ”

The video shows footage of Bitty--now in his ice crew uniform and on the Falconer’s logo--doing the same tricks that a younger version of him once performed as Bitty’s voice continues, “ _I competed all through middle school and high school._ ” A picture of a young Bitty grinning and holding a bouquet of flowers with a medal around his neck appears on the screen. “ _My momma taught me not to brag and be humble. But, yes, I did win a few things.”_

“ _But that was a long time ago,”_ Bitty says in the video, the picture fading to the present. “ _Now I work at a bakery and for the Falconers, and I’m excited for what this season will bring for the team and our new ice crew._ ”

The video transitions to another ice crew member, but Jack doesn’t pay attention. He fast forwards to see if there’s more of Bitty, but the only glimpse of Bitty he gets is when he’s shown skating with the rest of the ice crew. Once at the end, he rewinds back to see Bitty again and watch the younger version skate and jump and the present version be just as graceful executing the same moves.

Other than the times he saw Bitty pushing snow around during games and the glimpses of the ice crew practices when he went to work out at the rink, he hasn’t seen Bitty skate before. He wonders if there’s more video of Bitty in his figure skating days. Bitty had said the Internet is forever, and considering the grainy clips included in the Falconers’ video, the footage of Bitty probably came from online.

The thing is, Jack isn’t all that great at finding things on the Internet. It’s someone else on the PR team that runs his social media, though he does have a little input here and there and access to his accounts if he wants to use them himself. If he does use it, it’s usually only a picture of something he finds cool with no caption whatsoever. And magically, his photo ends up with some hashtags on it later on in the day (thanks to the Falconers’ PR team).

However, he does know someone a little more savvy, so he clicks the “Share” button on the video that appears below it and types in an email address. Once it’s sent, he opens his phone and sends a text to his best friend and lawyer, Shitty.

_Just sent you an email. I need help with something._

**You beautiful fucker. What do you need, buddy?? Do I need to bail you out of jail? Make someone sign an NDA? Draw up a contract for some BDSM relationship you want to start (which, probably not a good idea, Jackie)?**

_BDSM? What? No! Can you find more videos of the figure skater in the video I emailed?_

**Figure skater?**

**Wait.**

**Is this that tiny blond you have a GIANT crush on??? The one on the ice crew???!**

_Shut up. Just. Help me please?_

**Oh this is adorable. You cute motherfucker.**

**You know I got your back Jack-o. I’ll see what I can do.**

Jack tries to go about the rest of his day, doing some more stretches, reviewing video of the opponents they’ll be playing on the upcoming road trip, making notes of tendencies and weaknesses that he might need to emphasize to his teammates.

After he’s eaten his dinner of chicken and broccoli, he gets a text from Shitty.

**My Canadian beaut, you should tell me you love and adore me right now.**

_Why?_

**Why?! Because I am the platonic love of your life and best friend, and also… I could use some positive vibes in my life.**

**BUT ALSO because…**

**Not only did I find plenty of blackmail worthy footage of that small Southern hottie that I am trying to accept you’ll leave me for, but I also found out what bakery he works at.**

_Seriously? What’s the address?_

**Whoa whoa Jack, buddy, pal, lover, friend. What’re the magic words?**

Jack rolls his eyes at his phone and sighs. He’s not quite sure how he and Shitty became such great friends, but he’s grateful to have him in his life anyway.

_I love and adore you._

_There. Happy?_

**Incandescently.**

**OK, sent you an email with the deets.**

**Pro tip, maybe don’t stay up too late binge watching the vids?**

**And also, if you go to the bakery, pick me up some of that delicious pie he makes! His Yelp reviews are off the charts!**

Jack isn't quite sure what Yelp is, but he sends Shitty a thank you text and opens his email on his phone. The email from Shitty contains a series of YouTube links and the name and address of Bitty’s bakery.

He clicks the address first, wondering how far the bakery is from where he lives, and it opens the mapping app on his phone. As it turns out, the bakery, while not around the corner, is on the same path he runs in the mornings. Tomorrow is their last day off before they leave for the roadie, and he thinks maybe he’ll conveniently run by the bakery just to check it out. He can’t get a pie; there’s no way he’d cheat on his diet now, but he could honor Shitty’s request and reward him for his help.

Making up his mind to visit the next morning, Jack goes back to his email app to start clicking the video links Shitty had sent. He finds himself mesmerized by the movements Bitty makes on the screen, the way his body flows to the music, how he lands the jumps so gracefully, how fast he is as he moves across the rink. Because that’s where his mind goes, Jack thinks about how Bitty would’ve been as a hockey player, if he would’ve been able to transfer that speed and grace to the sport, how he would look with a stick in his hands and a puck on his tape, in hockey skates instead of figure skates.

He thinks maybe he could convince Bitty to try it someday. Maybe he could teach Bitty, show him how to handle a hockey stick, how to hit the back of the net. Perhaps it could be like a date? Not that he’s sure that’d be a good date though. He should ask Shitty. Although, he knows what Shitty would tell him.

He has to talk to Bitty first.

Tomorrow.

~

Not heeding Shitty’s advice, Jack stays up far longer than he should watching the videos of Bitty’s figure skating, as well as a baking video blog Bitty had in college. He even ends up watching videos that other people made trying to recreate Bitty’s desserts or his skating routines.

When his alarm goes off that morning, Jack, for the first time in a very long time, turns it off and goes back to sleep. It _is_ his day off after all, he has the luxury of being able to. Of course, his body is too used to a routine, so it doesn’t allow him to sleep in too long. An hour after his alarm goes off, he rolls out of bed and starts pulling on his shorts and shoes.

Since he’s leaving later than usual, it will be hotter, the sun higher in the sky than he’s used to, but he thinks maybe it’ll be better since he’ll have missed the morning rush at the bakery by the time he’s in the vicinity. He had worried himself into a mess last night (another reason why he was up too late) wondering if it would be bad to show up at the bakery all sweaty and gross from his run. Should he go home and shower and drive there later instead? But then he couldn’t use the excuse of being in the area or just “happening” upon the bakery. Bitty would know he looked it up and went there specifically, and then Bitty would think he was some kind of creep.

He’d finally taken a breath and thought about what Shitty would tell him. He decided that he’d go there on his run, and if Bitty didn’t like him and his “eau de au natural”--Shitty’s words in Jack’s head--then he wasn’t worth Jack’s time. Besides, it’s not like Bitty hasn't seen Jack sweaty before; he sees Jack that way every game. Maybe the next visit, a planned not “seemingly coincidental” visit, he’d make himself a little more presentable.

After stretching, Jack finally puts his earbuds in and sets out on his run, pushing aside his thoughts. He takes a few different turns than normal, trying to extend his run so that when he does finally end up at the bakery, most everyone will have cleared out. He doesn’t want to bother Bitty while he’s busy; it’s already bad enough he’s doing it while he’s working, though as the Shitty in his head reminds him, he is getting pie and is a customer, so is that really bothering?

By the time he ends up at the cross-streets of the bakery, Jack is dripping and slightly out of breath. He takes a few deep breaths and wipes the hem of his shirt across his brow to try to get himself under control. He spots the shop across the street, and though Jack had feared a line out the door, there isn’t one, though from what he can tell there is still a decent crowd inside. He slowly paces the sidewalk, trying to get his breathing under control, his heart-rate down, and to talk himself into going inside.

With a deep breath, he jogs across the street and into the coffeeshop. Many of the tables near the windows are taken up by patrons with laptops, headphones in and typing away, and the line is about six people deep. There are a few empty chairs and tables near the back, near the restrooms, and Jack makes a beeline to the restroom first.

He wipes off the sweat with a paper towel and runs cool water over another to place on his face and neck. He isn't going to run this late in the day again, he decides, trying to see if his hair is worth saving with a few brushes of his fingers. He takes several mouthfuls of water from the sink, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at himself in the mirror.

He looks like a hot mess, literally, but he’s here in the bakery, so he might as well get the pie for Shitty. Maybe he won’t ask after Bitty; he didn’t see him at the front when he made his way to the restroom, so he’s probably baking things and shouldn’t be disturbed. He’ll get pie to go and then leave. Yeah. Okay. That’s the plan.

Jack exits the bathroom and stands in line at the counter, waiting his turn. There’s a tall blond at the front with glasses, making drinks, while a younger red-haired man with freckles takes orders, calling them out as he punches them into the register. Jack eyes the display case of pastries around the people in front of him, but his view isn’t great. He remembers there being something on the menu with maple (because yes, he’d also spent time looking at the website of the bakery and their menu and all of the reviews they had. He knows what Yelp is now), and he hopes they have it today. If not, he’s sure Shitty would be happy with anything.

It’s his turn finally, and he approaches the counter, ready to ask for a slice of whatever pie is the best and if they have something with maple in it. Before he can open his mouth, though, the cashier stares at him with wide eyes and waves his arm blindly behind him, hitting the barista (that’s what they’re called, right?) in the arm.

“Ow, watch it, Dex, I’ve got--” the blond looks up, sees Jack, and says, “Holy shit.”

Then the blond places the mug he had in his hands on the counter and disappears.

“Uh, hi. Hello, yes, hi. Welcome. What can I get for you?” the cashier asks, smiling at Jack like everything is fine and normal and he hadn’t been staring at him in terror mere seconds ago.

“Um, hi? I was wondering, do you have anything with maple in it? I think I saw on your menu you have that sometimes, but I'm not sure if you have that today?”

“Oh, yeah, we… um, let me check,” the cashier says, and then he too disappears through a side door behind the counter.

Jack turns to look behind himself, perplexed, but he’s the only one in line. There’s another girl standing off to the side, more than likely waiting for the drink the barista had abandoned moments before, but she’s staring down at her phone not paying attention to anything else around her. Everyone else in the shop seems to be absorbed in their own conversations or work, and Jack appears to be alone in his confusion.

Suddenly, the side door swings open, and Jack catches a glimpse of Bitty, and his breath freezes in his throat. The door shuts again, muffling some sort of commotion and muttering, and then it slams open again, this time with Bitty stumbling out of it as if he were pushed through. He barely catches himself on the counter to keep from falling on the ground.

Slowly he stands up straight, brushes his hands down the apron around his waist, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and turns to face Jack.

Bitty has a smudge of something on his cheek, maybe flour, and his apron is covered in streaks of various sauces and more flour. His cheeks are flushed, and he has a little piece of hair across his forehead and over his eye. He’s beautiful, and Jack desperately wants to reach across the counter and smooth it back into place for him. He resists though, clenching his hands into fists at his sides to ensure he doesn’t do something stupid.

“Jack!” Bitty approaches him, his smile widening now that he seems to have gotten himself in order. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Bittle. Oh, I, um, I always run past this place in the mornings, and a friend of mine mentioned it to me and told me the pie was great and to get him some. So…” Jack shrugs, hoping Bitty doesn’t question his flimsy half-truth.

“Well, honey, your friend is definitely not wrong about the pie,” Bitty grins and winks at him, and Jack tries to ignore what that does to him. “Does he have a favorite flavor?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I figured I’d get whatever was best? Which do you think?”

“Hmm, well,” Bitty walks over to the display case with Jack following from the other side. Bitty points out each one as he mentions it, “If he wants something fruity, the apple pie is the go-to, though blueberry is very popular. If he wants sweet, the chocolate mousse is an excellent choice. Coconut cream is also good, if he likes coconut.”

“Can I just have a slice of each of those?” Jack says, unsure what Shitty would want but positive he’d eat them all anyway.

“Each? That’s a lot of pie, sweetie. You sure this is all for your friend?” Bitty gives him a teasing side-grin.

Jack smiles and nods. “He’ll eat it all, trust me. I really shouldn’t eat any myself. Not today anyway. But, uh… maybe I can come back?”

“Oh, of course! Or, you could even let me know when your cheat day is, and I can bake you up something special. I could even bring it by the rink for you or something?”

“Oh, that would… that’s nice of you. Though, if you brought it to practice, I might be forced to share.”

Bitty giggles, and Jack’s heart melts a little. “Oh that’s true! I didn’t think about that. Lord, I’d have to make four or five batches for the whole team! I already have to make two for the ice crew.”

“How are you, um, liking it? The ice crew, I mean? Do you, uh, like it?” Ugh. Wow, why can’t he get himself together?

“Oh, I love it! It’s a lot of work, but it’s a lot of fun. Game nights are tough sometimes with how late it goes and how early I have to be here to bake, but I’ve been making it work. Thanks to my assistant Chowder, here,” Bitty says, thumbing behind him to an Asian guy in braces who has just emerged from the side door carrying a tray of baked goods.

Jack didn’t realize it, but the cashier and barista from earlier are back behind the counter too, taking orders from the couple people who walked in while Jack was too busy paying attention to Bitty.

“Chowder, sweetie,” Bitty asks, taking the tray from Chowder’s hands, “can you box up a slice each of apple, blueberry, chocolate, and coconut for Mr. Zimmerman?”

“Sure thing, Bits!” Chowder says enthusiastically and starts folding up a box for the pie.

Jack wants to talk to Bitty more, but it feels like maybe Bitty doesn’t want to. He likely has more things to bake, and he is at work after all, though his coworkers seem to be handling things okay without him. They’re at least doing a very good job of ignoring the fact that Bitty is not working, though Jack isn't sure how much of his and Bitty’s conversation they’re ignoring. He hasn’t heard the cashier call out any orders like he had before.

“So maybe bringing it by the rink isn’t the best idea, but you’re welcome back here any time. You know, to pick up more pie for your friend,” Bitty says with another wink. Jack doesn’t think he can take another one; he’s positive he’ll end up with some kind of heart condition the way these winks make his chest feel.

“Yes, my friend. But, maybe for me, too?”

“Of course! Definitely come back for you. It’s nice to see you outside of the rink.”

Jack leans forward a little, smile growing warm. Maybe Bitty feels something, too? Maybe this whole conversation was kind of like flirting (though Jack admittedly did an awful job at it)? “Yeah?” he asks, looking for some kind of confirmation from Bitty that it was.

Bitty’s eyes widen, and his smile changes to something almost fake and put on. “Yeah! It’s always great to see a fellow Falconer’s coworker outside of work, you know? Like when you see a teacher at the grocery store or something?”

Jack’s brow furrows, and he can feel the slight hope and warmth he had drain away. “Coworker. Uh, right. Yeah.”

Jack is floundering and embarrassed, and he needs to leave because he read this all wrong. Bitty’s assistant hands him a box, which he accepts numbly. He’d almost forgotten he still had pie he needed to pay for.

He tries to recover, thanks Chowder, and walks back to the cashier to pay for the pie. He hands over his card, and when he gets it back, slips it back into his pocket. He had only brought it, his ID, his house key, and his phone because he’d been running. Which means he has to run all the way back to his house with a handful of pie. He hadn’t thought things out at all. This whole thing has been a huge mistake.

“Oh, Jack,” Bitty says as he’s about to turn away. “Here,” Bitty says, handing him a small paper bag of something. “On the house. You asked Dex about some maple things. I just pulled these out of the oven. They’re maple brown sugar cookies.”

“Oh, um. Thank you,” Jack replies, accepting the bag and placing it on top of the pie box.

“They should keep for a few days.” At Jack’s confused look, Bitty adds, “Since today isn’t your cheat day. Maybe they can be a road trip snack?”

Jack nods his head. “Right. Okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck this week,” Bitty says. He gives Jack a small, hesitant smile, but it doesn’t make Jack feel any better.

Jack only nods again, not saying anything, and takes his purchases and leaves. He wonders if he should call an Uber or better yet Shitty, but instead he slowly treks back home, feeling bereft and dumb and unsure.

When he’s finally back home, he texts Shitty to come over and then showers, hoping it’ll help wash away this awful feeling. If not, he’s sure Shitty will find a way to help.


	5. Chapter 5

**Bitty**

As soon as Jack disappears around the corner, Bitty buries his face into his hands and goes back to his kitchen as fast as he can. He’s not alone in the kitchen for long, because _all_ of his coworkers file in after him and wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so stupid,” Bitty mutters while he’s pressed against Holster’s chest. Holster rubs his back, and he tries to let it make him feel better. It doesn’t.

Slowly, Bitty lifts his head and looks at the others surrounding him. “Is no one managing the front?”

Holster winces and nods at Dex who pats Bitty on the shoulder before winding himself out of the group hug and leaves the kitchen. Holster gives Bitty one more squeeze and then steps back, Chowder following so they’re both in front of Bitty.

“That was so dumb. Why did I say that?” Bitty asks, more rhetorically than anything because he knows why, and he’s mad at himself for it. Mainly for making Jack look the way he did.

“Yeah, the coworker comment was a bit rough,” Holster agrees.

“But, it’s true?” Chowder adds.

“It is, but did you see his face? It was like I told him he was bad at hockey or something.”

“I mean, I don’t want to make you feel worse, but pretty sure that was his hockey robot way of flirting with you? Maybe the reminder that he’s not supposed to made him feel bad?”

Bitty groans and puts his hands over his face. “That was flirting? He was flirting?”

“I didn’t say it was good flirting.”

A buzzer rings, and Bitty looks up, but Chowder is already moving to take another batch of the maple brown sugar cookies out of the oven.

“I feel awful,” Bitty mutters.

“It’ll be okay,” Chowder says helpfully, and bless him, but Bitty isn’t quite so sure.

“Maybe it’s something else?” Holster tries. “Like maybe he remembered he left his oven on at home?” Bitty stares at him flatly. “Or… not.”

“He wasn’t flirting,” Bitty declares. He can’t be thinking that Jack was flirting with him because if he does, it will give him hope, and the whole reason he made the coworker comment is to remind himself that he _should not_ be flirting with Jack. He can’t. He’s not allowed. And he realized too late that his usual Southern charm was getting further away from common manners.

“Okay,” Holster agrees, though he doesn’t sound like he believes it for one second. He pats Bitty one last time and goes back to the front.

Numbly, Bitty watches as Chowder takes the cookies off the tray to place on the cooling rack. He should be helping, but now he can’t stop thinking about if Jack was flirting and what might have happened if he hadn’t reminded Jack that they were coworkers who aren't allowed to do anything with each other.

Chowder starts scooping out more dough to refill the empty tray, and Bitty tries to get back into his work. That’s what he needs to do, _bake_.

Only, he can’t stop thinking about it as he gets to work on some pie dough. A little while later, when Bitty’s three batches deep in both pie and cookie dough that he’s likely going to need to freeze for later use, he turns to Chowder who has been quietly helping him at his side, checking the front for anything that might be running low.

“Do you think Jack was flirting?” Bitty asks Chowder.

His assistant pauses and looks up like he’s thinking. Bitty appreciates that he’s trying to take his question seriously.

“I don’t know Jack very well,” Chowder starts, “but he seemed nice? Like he wanted to keep talking to you? I’m not sure he wanted _me_ to give him his pie. But, I don’t know for sure!” Chowder adds quickly.

Bitty nods and tries to focus on his baking. He tries to talk about other things with Chowder, and Chowder happily complies, though Bitty can tell he’s doing it for him rather than really wanting to talk about the movie he’d watched that weekend.

When they finally call it a day and close up, Bitty goes home and replays the whole conversation with Jack. He thought Holster was ridiculous; there’s no way Jack was flirting with him, but Jack’s face was so crestfallen after Bitty’s comment that he’s not sure there’s another explanation for it. He hated seeing Jack like that and that he was the cause.

He feels like he needs to explain and clear things up. What he really wants to do is to bake Jack something in apology, but that’s what started this whole issue to begin with. Maybe he should just leave him alone, though they work together so it’s not like that’s possible, nor was he really seeing much of Jack anyway. He had been trying to be careful while at the rink and during games. He didn’t want to be accused of doing something untoward and jeopardize his place on the ice crew.

Well, he has a week to figure it out since the team is leaving on a road trip and there’s no home games. Maybe by then he’ll know how to apologize to Jack, or he can just continue to ignore him. Lord help him.

~

While the hockey team is on their road trip, the ice crew still practices a few times that week, though Bitty ends up practicing much longer than he thought he would.

Turns out the intro video he did has gotten a lot of views, and the comments from fans are asking for more of “the figure skating guy who can do jumps.” Lardo decides it would be a great idea if Bitty could work up a little routine, maybe with the Falconers’ mascot for them to record.

Ryan, who’s the main mascot, works with Bitty in the evenings every day during the road trip. The routine they design isn’t complicated, and it’s more Bitty than Ryan, since Ryan can’t do much given the limitations of the mascot suit.

In total, it lasts about two minutes, and Bitty does a couple simple jumps and a spin with Divebomb the Falconer attempting to copy them only to fail miserably. At the end, Bitty takes pity on him, and they do a glide and spin together with a pose to finish it off. It’s funny and cute, and once it’s recorded, edited, and posted, Bitty forgets about it.

That is until the next weekend’s home game when he goes out on the ice to screams and yells of his name. He tries to ignore them because he has a job to do and a limited time in which to do it, but as he skates by with his shovel, he sees a few signs with his name on it. Which is crazy to him since he’s not a player and is barely on the ice to warrant anyone to cheer for him. It’s probably a fluke anyway, and it’ll die down.

But much to Bitty’s surprise, the next few games the cheers only grow louder with more signs with his name or even, good lord, face being held up in the crowd. Bitty does his best to ignore it and do his job, but he knows his face is as red as his Aunt Judy’s strawberry rhubarb jam when he skates by with his shovel of snow. 

He tries to ignore the bench when he passes, too, but Jack hasn’t been in his way or even come close to him. He wants to say something, but during the game isn’t a good idea, and they haven’t crossed paths during practices either. If Bitty didn’t know better, he’d think Jack was avoiding him, but he knows that can’t possibly be it. They’ve just both been busy, Jack with hockey, and Bitty with hiding his embarrassment at his sudden popularity.

Later that week during their ice crew practice, Lardo asks Bitty to stick around for a meeting. Of course that means Bitty’s worried that his sudden explosion of fans has gotten to be a bit much, and they’d like him quietly to leave so that the focus can be back on the hockey players. He spends the rest of the practice so distracted and nervous, he nearly runs into Dustin twice.

“You okay?” Dustin asks when practice is through and they’re unlacing their skates.

“I’m fine, honey. I just… Lardo wants to meet with me. And I’m just… I’m worried.”

“She probably wants to cash in on your popularity, make you do another video or something. It’s probably not that big a deal, Bits,” Dustin says, giving Bitty a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“You’re probably right. That’d be okay. Fun, even. I just thought--” Bitty shakes his head, realizing it’s too silly to voice out loud.

“They’re not firing you, Bits. You’re too good and have too many admirers now. They’ll probably use you to convince all the other NHL teams to add men to their ice crews.”

Bitty can feel his cheeks heat. “Yeah, sure,” he says, rolling his eyes and hoping it hides his blush.

Grinning, Dustin pats him on the back again. “Let me know how it goes. See you later, Bitty.” He gives Bitty a wave, picks up his duffle bag, and leaves.

Slowly, Bitty breathes out and back in, trying to calm himself. Most everyone else has cleared out, and he doesn’t want to keep Lardo waiting, so he quickly finishes packing up the rest of his things.

Lardo is in her office, typing away at her computer, seemingly busy. Bitty gently sets down his bag outside her door and, before he can knock to interrupt her, she’s already waving at him to come in.

“Come in, Bitty,” she says once he’s inside, gesturing at the chair in front of her desk. “I’ll be quick about this, and feel free to say no as it’s completely up to you, but I wanted to see how you’d feel about doing more figure skating with Divebomb?”

“Like making another video?”

“Eh, I was thinking more… live.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your video with Divebomb has gotten over a million views, and a majority of the comments have demanded to see more. I’m sure you’ve noticed the signs and cheers too, when you’re out on the ice during games.” Bitty nods, while Lardo continues. “So, I was thinking maybe you two could do a routine during an intermission? And depending on the reception, we might make it a regular occurence, like on weekend games or something. Not every home game, but the ones that bring a big draw, you know? What do you think?”

He thinks he might have a heart attack, but he can’t really tell Lardo that. He’s both elated and terrified. It sounds amazing and so much fun to perform for an audience again, but what if it ends in a disaster? What if he messes up? What if the fans hate it, or hate him, and everything the Falconers have done to try to encourage diversity and acceptance comes crashing down?

“Bitty?” Lardo interrupts his downward spiral. “You don’t have to answer now if you need to think about it. And your answer _can_ be no. I know you didn’t sign up for this part.”

Bitty thinks about it without his anxiety clouding his thoughts. He loved skating again, really skating, doing a routine. Even though it was for laughs and not for medals, it was so much fun, and he’d love to do it again. But if he did, it would require more practice and planning than his ice crew gig does. 

He had practiced with Ryan for a week for the video they filmed, both without the costume and with it. The actual filming of the video took several takes as well. Would they do the same routine? They could at first, though it’d get old and they’d have to come up with something else and practice that. It sounds like a bigger time commitment than what he had now for this job that isn't actually his job.

“If I agreed to it, what would that mean? Like with regards to practices and my job and things? It… sounds like a lot?”

Lardo sighs and nods. “It does. It’d be up to you, how much you’d be able to dedicate to it. Ryan is up for practicing as this is mostly his full-time gig and he freelances on the side when he can. I know you don’t have that luxury and already moved around your full-time work to be on the ice crew.

“We’d rework your contract, include the extra time and hours and add more to your stipend, of course. And you and Ryan can decide how often you do it. We can look at the schedule and hand-pick games if that’s better, like if you want to do it every other weekend or hell, I’ll even take once a month if that’s all you can handle.

“The people love you, Bits, and we’d really like to capitalize on that popularity, use it for good to highlight the diversity that we hope other teams will mirror, you know?”

Bitty nods because he gets it, even had that same thought. He can see how excited Lardo is about the idea, how it would highlight what she’s pushed for and worked hard to do for the team and the NHL in general. And really… how can Bitty say no?

“Alright. I’ll do it. I mean, I’ll have to look at my schedule and the games and things, but my goodness, yes!”

“S’awesome!” Lardo shouts before clearing her throat and brushing the front of her blouse as if straightening it. “We’ll set up something with Ryan and give you a call to discuss details.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Bitty says, standing.

“No, thank you. This is going to be great, Bitty.” She grins wide at him, and he can’t help but mirror it.

He leaves and repeats the sentiment to himself on the way home. It really is going to be great.


	6. Chapter 6

**Jack**

This is torture.

As much as Jack tries to avoid awkward run-ins with Bitty, he can’t because Bitty is _everywhere_. He heard about (more like saw and watched several times) the video of Divebomb and Bitty doing a routine together, and now it seems they’re practicing for other routines all the time.

It’s not until several weeks later when he catches sight of the screen in the locker room that shows the ice at all times that he sees Bitty and Divebomb performing during the intermission. He only sees a glimpse of it as he walks by and forces himself not to stand there and watch the rest because he has to focus on the game and all the plays and strategies in his head. They’re up by one going into the third, but a lot could change in twenty minutes and he can’t get distracted by the cute blond figure skater spinning around the mascot.

Jack’s done his level-best to avoid Bitty ever since that awkward interaction at the bakery, but Bitty just can’t seem to let Jack get away with it. When he sees Jack he waves and smiles, and Jack’s heart feels like it skips a beat every time it happens. He finally stops Jack at one point when they cross paths at the practice rink and tells him he has a batch of maple sugar crusted apple hand pies that he “simply must try” and he’ll leave them at Jack’s locker.

Sure enough when Jack finally drags himself off the ice, on his seat is a small box with the logo of Bitty’s coffeeshop bakery and attached is a note that reads:

_I hope you enjoy these! I made them especially for you._

_Also… I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable at the shop. I’d love to see you there again… if you wanted to stop by, or pick up anything else for your friend?_

_Anyway, good luck against Toronto tomorrow!_

_~Bitty_

The pies are, of course, delicious, though he only ate one, saved one for Shitty, and stashed the rest in his freezer for later. When Shitty comes over for the goods (and demands to read the note), Shitty tells Jack that he needs to chill, that Bitty is apologizing and clearly wants to see Jack again in a non-work capacity.

“Then why would he say to come to the bakery? That is his work!” Jack says.

Shitty stares at him nodding. “Okay, Jacky, you have a point. BUT, you don’t work with him _there_!” 

Jack rolls his eyes and, after the debate and Shitty giving up on pushing the issue, Jack decides it would be best not to visit the bakery again, whether Shitty demands pie or not.

So he hasn’t, but it hasn’t stopped Bitty from leaving treats for him in his locker, with more notes of good luck for upcoming games or travel. And slowly the notes and treats make Jack feel more comfortable, like maybe he hadn’t completely messed up that day at the bakery.

Now when he sees Bitty at the rink, he smiles a little and waves back, and Bitty seems to light up whenever he does. Jack still gets nervous about seeing him so much because Bitty too easily distracts him from his focus on hockey. But it’s… kind of nice to come out of the shower to a (now) nutritionist-approved granola bar (there’d been several times that Jack hadn’t gotten to his locker first and Tater had tried the treats to make sure they weren’t poisoned and then decided to share with everyone else) and a handwritten note.

Eventually he works his way up to actually thanking Bitty for his treats and notes in person, and even though he thinks he might faint from both the anxiety and the sheer magnitude of Bitty’s attention and smile solely trained on him, it goes well. So well that Bitty starts to talk enough for the both of them when they do run into each other. Which is getting to be more often than not since it turns out Bitty’s routine with Divebomb is getting more and more popular, not only with their own fans but with fans of other teams and even non-hockey fans.

Jack of course learns all of this because Bitty tells him, and he slightly regrets he still hasn’t been able to catch a full performance, only seeing bits and pieces of them practicing on the rink while Jack works out or warms up before practice. He’s seen the original video more times than he’d care to admit, but the version he’s seen them practice looks different. He can’t watch during the game, too busy talking strategy and plays with the coach or giving his teammates a pep talk during intermission. But maybe it’s recorded somewhere?

He’s too timid to ask Larissa who he knows is in charge of the ice crew, and who, according to Bitty, had the brilliant idea of him doing this whole routine to begin with. And he _definitely_ cannot ask Bitty. So, he goes to the next best thing he can think of.

“ _You want me to do_ what?!” Shitty yells at Jack over the speakers of his car as he’s driving home from the rink.

“Just… can’t you do like you did last time? Search the tube site?”

Shitty’s sigh is very loud. “ _It’s called YouTube, Jackie boy. And, yes, I could, but... you do know I’m your lawyer, right? Like I’m your friend, shaw, but my job is lawyerly... things, not scouring the Internet for videos of your lover._ ”

“Make your admin do it, then,” Jack suggests.

The gasp that reverberates in Jack’s car makes him grin. “ _How dare you!? I can’t just give this to some rando!_ ”

“You’ve known Nancy since you were ten.”

“ _Zimms, my dearest French Candian maple leaf, this is not a task for just anyone. And yes, I do know I’m essentially agreeing to help you, but that’s because I am a_ s’awesome _friend and confidant who would do anything for you and for delectable, decadent desserts that would be owed by doing such an assignment such as this._ ”

Jack rolls his eyes. “I’ll ask Bitty to make a pie to bring next practice.”

“ _You know… you could ask Bitty for more than just pie._ ”

“Don’t, Shitty.”

“ _Alright, alright!_ ” There’s a pause while Jack pulls into his garage and parks his car. And then Shitty says, “ _Fuck, man, just… I haven’t seen you this into someone since… well since, you know, and for what it’s worth, I think he’s just as into you. It sucks to make yourself vulnerable and put yourself out there, I get it, dude, I do. But, sometimes love is worth the risk, and could give you something great._ ”

Jack stares at the wall ahead of him. “Shitty… I--”

“ _I know, bud. Just… think about it. This Bitty sounds like he’s worth it.”_ Before Jack can respond, Shitty continues _, “I’ll see what I can find. I’ll text you later._ ”

“Thanks, Shitty.”

“ _Only for you, Jackie_ ,” Shitty says before hanging up.

Jack stays in his car for a little longer, thinking about what Shitty said. Was Bitty worth the risk? Risk of Jack having more attention on him, risk being a target on the ice by homophobes, risk of having his heart broken, either now with him misinterpreting Bitty’s signals, or later if things don’t work out between them. Is it really worth all that?

For Bitty? Jack thinks it just might be, and it scares the hell out of him.

~

Shitty of course works his “Google-fu” as he calls it and finds very grainy footage from someone using the most powerful digital zoom on their phone camera to film the jumbotron showing Bitty and Divebomb’s performance. He also found a cut-off version from someone closer to the ice and told Jack that was all he could find without subpoena-ing people’s phones.

Jack accepts it and watches it more than he should, in rotation with the other videos of Bitty. He watches them all and tries to convince himself to put himself out there. He makes a goal to talk to Bitty more the next time he sees him, to tell him that he’s amazing out there, that he’s doing a great job. 

And when he sort of does (after the third time he sees Bitty), he makes another goal to find some way to ask Bitty out. Or… maybe not out, but do something flirty? Put himself out there like Shitty suggested.

He just can’t seem to find the right time. They’re just past the mid-point of the season, and while the Falconers are in a good position, it’s only going to get more intense from here. They have a brutal schedule approaching them, with a lot of back-to-backs and roadies, and Jack finds himself operating in hockey-mode more than anything else. But in an effort not to lose himself too much in the throws of hockey, he sets a goal of flirting with Bitty at the next opportunity that presents itself.

And that opportunity lands itself, quite literally, in Jack’s lap.


	7. Chapter 7

**Bitty**

“Oh my goodness, Jack! I’m so sorry, honey! I did not see you at all! I thought the room was empty.” 

“It’s alright, Bittle,” Jack says, steadying him after he’d literally run into Jack. 

Bitty tries to ignore how solid Jack felt when they collided and how strong his arms are now holding him up. Lord, he should _not_ be thinking about this. He looks down at Jack, his feet clad in skates and his pads.

“Going to practice more?” Bitty asks, stepping back and away from Jack’s hands.

Jack shrugs a little. “Nothing intense, just need to… clear my mind, shoot some pucks.”

Bitty nods as he leans down to pick up his equipment bag. “I hope that it helps,” Bitty adds. “I’ll see you around?” he asks, moving around Jack toward the doorway.

“Actually,” Jack says, causing Bitty to freeze halfway out of the room. “Are you… do you need to… be somewhere? Now?”

Slowly, Bitty turns to face Jack who is standing with his hands clenched in fists at his side, and his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks visibly nervous, and Bitty’s not quite sure what brought it on. It seems like an innocent enough question.

“Uh… no, not particularly? Why?”

“You don’t have to wake up early tomorrow? To bake?”

Bitty smiles. “Luckily, Chowder’s going in first thing tomorrow. So I can sleep in a little bit.” He waits, but Jack seems to hesitate. “Why do you ask, sweetie? Do you need something?”

“Well, I was…” Jack rubs the back of his neck, takes a deep breath, lets it out, and then continues. “Would you mind staying a little longer? Helping me on the ice a little?”

Knowing his mouth is gaping and his eyes are wide at the request, Bitty tries to rein in his shock. “Um, I mean… I don’t know that I’d be any help? Not that-- I mean I would love to help you, Jack, but I might be more of a bother? Lord, I don’t even know the first thing about shooting a puck!”

Jack starts to smile, and it takes everything in Bitty not to melt when he sees it. “I can show you. You already know how to skate. It won’t be that bad, promise.”

Unsure, Bitty scrunches his face to the side. He really wants to say yes, but what if someone sees them together? What if he gets in trouble for being alone with someone on the team even if what they’re doing is innocent enough?

Suddenly Jack is closer than before, leaning down with a pleading look on his face. “Please?”

And god, how could Bitty say no to those cow eyes? “Okay, fine. But, if I make a fool of myself, you are not allowed to tell anyone!”

“Of course not,” Jack replies, holding his hand up to his heart like he’s making an oath. “Come on, let’s get you a stick.”

Bitty sets down his bag and follows Jack to the equipment room where all of the team’s sticks are. Jack eyes him and then the sticks and frowns. He grabs one, then puts it back, moves to one that appears shorter, and takes that. He hands it to Bitty, who accepts it. The stick has “Snow 24” on the side, and Bitty realizes that Jack isn’t just giving him an extra stick that was lying around but Dustin Snow’s stick!

“Uh, should I be using this? Isn’t this--”

“He won’t mind. It’s not like you’ll break it your first time shooting,” Jack adds, grinning.

Bitty stares because… was that… is Jack teasing him right now? “Don’t you chirp me, Jack Zimmerman.”

Jack laughs. “You know what chirping is?” His tone sounds like he’s impressed, and it makes Bitty preen a little.

“Honey, I work for a hockey team, of course I know what it means!”

“Come on, Bittle,” Jack says, taking the stick from Bitty and walking back to the locker room. “I’ll get everything set up while you get your skates on. I’ll see you on the ice.” He gives Bitty one last nod and strides out of the room.

Bitty walks back to his bag to take out his skates to strap them on. He hopes he doesn’t need pads, but he thinks Jack likely would’ve said if he did. He’s surprised they’ve been alone this long, figuring other people use the arena at other times with the team doesn’t, but maybe it’s one of Jack’s captain privileges. It’s like when Jack had been alone and reserved the ice back before the season started, when they’d first met.

They’ve both come a long way since then, and Bitty would say they’re mostly friends now? Which, of course, some baked goods greased the way towards. But with how talkative Jack’s been lately, and especially with how nervous he seemed asking Bitty to stay and skate with him, maybe it’s more than Jack being friendly. Or it is, but more so?

Good lord, Bitty isn't making any sense in his head, and the more he thinks about it, the more nervous he’ll be. So, he pushes thoughts aside and hopes to heaven above that no one sees he and Jack together and assumes the worst.

Stepping onto the ice, Bitty sees Jack, a pile of pucks in front of him, and a net set up. The stick he’d picked out for Bitty is laying on the ice beside him while he maneuvers a puck back and forth with his own stick. If he could, Bitty would sit and watch him, how focused Jack gets once he’s on the ice, see how he commands the whole rink with his presence even though he’s alone, admire how smooth and graceful he is as he skates and moves the puck. It’s like a beautiful dance, and Bitty doesn’t want to interrupt with missteps of his own.

As if sensing Bitty’s presence, Jack looks up and lets the puck glide to a stop. He stands, waiting, and Bitty skates over so he’s closer.

“So, where do we start, Captain?” Bitty asks. At the question, Jack seems to flush slightly, and he clears his throat. He gestures for Bitty to pick up the stick.

“I thought we could start with passing? And then move to pass and shoot?”

With a nod, Bitty stands with the stick in what he thinks is how he’s supposed to hold it and waits for Jack to pass a puck.

Only he doesn’t.

No, instead he chuckles, shakes his head and skates over to Bitty.

“Put your hand here,” Jack says, physically moving Bitty’s hand on the stick. “And your other down here, like this. Yes, good. Now, you use this hand,” Jack taps the hand in question with his gloved hand, “to steady the stick, while this one,” he taps the other, “maneuvers it.”

Jack moves to kick a puck with his blade so it’s in front of Bitty. “Okay, now just bring your stick back and tap the puck forward.”

Bitty does as instructed, and the puck moves a few feet forward.

“That’s good. You might need to bend and lean forward more for more power, but that’s great.”

Jack moves his own stick to do the same, hitting the puck back to Bitty, who stops it. Bitty repeats the motion he made earlier, hitting the puck a little harder than before, so it moves closer to Jack.

After a few passes back and forth, Bitty feels more comfortable, and slowly Jack moves further and further away until Bitty is having to really pull back on the stick to hit it, which means sometimes he’s hitting the ice instead of the puck. It trips him up a few times, making him stumble a little, but Jack never laughs about it. He smiles and tells Bitty to try again, and it gives Bitty a little more confidence when he actually gets it.

Once they grow bored of passing, Jack skates closer to the net he’s set up, bringing a few pucks with him on his stick.

“This time, pass to me, and then I’ll shoot it into the net,” Jack says. Bitty nods, and once in position, Jack passes Bitty a puck, who passes it back, and as soon as it gets close to Jack, he reels his stick back and shoots it at the net. Eventually, he and Jack build up a rhythm, passing and shooting until almost all the pucks are in the net.

They both go to retrieve them, pulling them out of the net with their sticks.

“Now it’s your turn,” Jack says when the net is clear of pucks.

“Oh, I can’t do that! You made it look so easy, there’s no way,” Bitty says, shaking his head.

“Okay, no passing to shoot then, just shooting. Come on, I’ll show you how,” Jack skates and waves Bitty over so they’re both standing directly in front of the net.

Jack goes first, slowing his movements as he shoots the puck into the net so Bitty can watch him. Bitty tries his best to copy it, but the puck skitters off to the side. Before Bitty can sigh and tell Jack that he doesn’t have to do this, that Bitty is supposed to be helping _him_ practice, Jack skates so he’s right behind Bitty.

Bitty stills, his breath caught in his throat, as Jack’s hands, without gloves, come to rest on Bitty’s on the stick. Jack is warm and so close, it makes it very difficult for Bitty to concentrate on what Jack is telling him.

“You want to lean on your stick as you drag it forward to really snap it. Then follow through once you hit it so the puck goes where you want. Like this,” Jack says, and he guides Bitty through the motions, his chest pressed against Bitty’s back, his hands on Bitty's.

Bitty feels like he might have a heart attack with how fast his heart is beating while in Jack’s arms. In Jack’s arms! Lord almighty, he might faint just to stay in them. _No, okay, Bitty, focus._

Slowly, Jack backs up and moves to the side and waits for Bitty to do the move on his own. He tries to remember what Jack had said, remembers the feel of the motion while Jack showed him, and pushes down the memory of how good it felt to be pressed against Jack. He leans on his stick and snaps it forward, hitting the puck and shooting it right into the back of the net.

“Ah! I did it!” Bitty shouts, turning to Jack who’s grin surely matches his own.

“That was great, Bitty. Do a couple more,” Jack encourages.

Bitty obliges, and with each shot he grows more confident and pleased to see every one going in the net. Jack shows him a couple other different shots, the same way he had before, coming up behind Bitty to guide him through the movement.

Every time, Bitty does his best to remain calm, but inside he’s freaking out. The more Jack does it, the closer he gets to Bitty, the longer he shows him the movement, the more Bitty feels like this is a date rather than a “help me practice” scenario. He’s loving it, don’t get him wrong, but it also feels like it’s a dream that he’s not allowed to have.

The last move Jack shows him, Bitty makes the mistake of looking up at Jack when he says he understands, and his face is so close. It wouldn’t take much to pull the collar of Jack’s sweater and steal a kiss. But he can’t. He’s not allowed. So, he snaps his head forward, and skates away from Jack, letting the stick slide out of his hands onto the ice.

“Race you around the rink?” Bitty suggests because he needs to not be so close to Jack anymore.

Jack smirks, “You think you can beat me?”

“I don’t think I can, Mr. Zimmerman, I _know_ I can.”

Jack lifts an eyebrow, drops his own stick, and skates over to Bitty who’s skated closer to the boards. “What are the parameters?” Jack asks.

“Once around the rink. First to this goal line wins.”

Jack nods. “Are we wagering something?”

“What are you willing to give up?” Bitty teases.

“If I win, you have to make me a dozen of those maple granola bars.”

Bitty rolls his eyes. “I already do that, but fine. If I win….” Bitty thinks, trying to come up with something. What he wants to say is something silly like “you give me a kiss” or “you take me to dinner,” but there’s no way he’s saying that. So instead, he says, “you give me a signed jersey.”

“I’d give that to you anyway; you just had to ask,” Jack says, but he sticks his hand out for Bitty to shake on their wager.

They line up beside each other at the goal line, and Bitty counts them down, both of them shooting forward at Bitty’s command of “Go!” They’re neck-and-neck for most of it, but slowly Bitty gains ground, picking up speed as they turn the corner and get closer to where they started.

By the time they round the last corner before the goal line, Bitty is ahead of Jack by several feet, and when he passes the goal line he raises his hands and cheers. He turns to brag about it as Jack finally crosses and glides to Bitty, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“How’re you so fast?” Jack gets out between breaths.

“I was a figure skater, remember? Have to have speed to do those jumps.”

“Maybe next time you can show me some of those,” Jack says, a nervous smile playing on his lips. “I could see if I can use them in a game.”

Bitty barks out a laugh, picturing Jack doing a salchow before he gets a goal. It’s certainly an interesting strategy. “I can’t be responsible for hurting the Falconers’ captain right before the race to the playoffs.”

He moves to pick up the sticks from the ice, and Jack kicks the puck bucket closer. In comfortable silence, they clean up the pucks, and while Jack moves the net back, Bitty carries the rest of the equipment to the locker room. He isn't sure where the pucks go, but he takes them back to the equipment room. He puts Snowy’s stick back on the rack and sets the pucks to the side before going back to the locker room. There, he sets Jack’s stick and gloves at his locker, and then takes his skates off to change into his shoes.

By the time he’s ready to leave, Jack is coming in, shedding his pads and clothes. Bitty feels like he should leave, that he shouldn't stay here and watch Jack strip (no matter how badly he wants to).

“I’m going to go, I had fun,” Bitty says, getting a small sense of deja vu as he slings his bag over his shoulder and tries to make his exit.

“Wait, let me just change real quick, and I’ll walk you to your car? It’s late.”

And just like before, Bitty finds himself sticking around to wait for Jack. It doesn’t take long, as Jack skips a shower, and soon Jack and Bitty are walking out of the rink to their cars.

“I would really like to see your jumps and things sometime,” Jack says when they’re exiting. “I’ve seen some… video, with you and Divebomb, but not a lot. You’re really good.”

Bitty can feel his cheeks heat, but he smiles graciously. “Thank you. It’s been a lot of fun, and I’m glad I can still pull off some of those things, you know?”

They arrive at Bitty’s car first, and Jack helps him load his bag into the trunk of his tiny beat-up two-door sedan. He can see Jack’s very nice SUV several feet away, and he’s a little embarrassed by the comparison. Jack doesn’t seem to notice or care about the state of Bitty’s car, which is a bit of a relief.

“Thanks for staying and helping me today,” Jack says when Bitty’s gear is packed and they’re both standing beside Bitty’s car.

“Not sure I really helped, but you’re welcome. And, thank you for showing me how to pass and shoot.”

“Anytime.” Jack smiles at Bitty, and Bitty smiles back. Jack takes another step closer, and Bitty is both excited and terrified by what might happen. “I mean it,” Jack says, voice low, and Bitty might need the side of his car to hold him up.

Jack opens his mouth as if he wants to say something more, except the doors to the rink open, drawing both their attention. Bitty had thought for sure they had been alone aside from the rink staff, but as the figure approaches, he realizes he knows who it is.

It’s Lardo, and as they stand there, Lardo spots them and starts walking over.

Oh, no! This is terrible. He can’t be seen, not like this, with Jack! Lardo’s going to fire him, or worse get Jack in trouble, and he just can’t handle that. He has to leave. He needs to go now.

“I, uh, I gotta go, Jack. Thanks, again. I’ll see you around,” Bitty says quickly. He yanks on his door and hops into the car, starting the engine as fast as he can to drive away. 

He looks in his rearview mirror at Jack, standing in the lot staring back at him, face a mix of shock and sadness, and Bitty’s heart wrenches at leaving Jack like that. It’s like the bakery all over again, and he feels absolutely awful. He can’t do this again, not to Jack, who’s been nothing but sweet and kind. 

He needs to stop, stop with the treats and the notes, and the chats. He needs to remain professional but distant. He can’t jeopardize Jack’s career, and he likes the ice crew and the routines he does with Ryan too much to let himself get caught up in something that could get him fired.

He needs to not be in love with Jack. 

Which, easier said than done, but Bitty will find a way, even if that means avoiding Jack like the plague.


	8. Chapter 8

**Jack**

Jack stands there, dumbfounded, as he watches Bitty’s car drive away. He feels bereft, like he’s been tossed out to sea with no lifeline.

He thought they had really gotten somewhere today, together. He’d been so proud of himself that he’d asked Bitty to stay and had been even more ecstatic that Bitty had agreed. Getting to show Bitty how to pass and shoot had been amazing. The longer he’d showed Bitty shooting moves, the more comfortable he got, and the more perfect Bitty felt in his arms.

For a brief moment he thought maybe they were on the same page, that maybe he should kiss Bitty, but he’d hesitated, that small part of Jack unsure if it would be wanted. So he hadn’t, and now…

Maybe it was good he hadn’t tried given how Bitty left in such a hurry. Perhaps he realized what a huge mistake it’d been, that he didn’t feel the same as Jack and had to leave. He probably didn’t want to have anything to do with Jack again, probably--

“Hey, Jack, you okay?”

Jack spins around to see Larissa Duan approaching him, purse slung over her shoulder. Her keys are in her hand; she must be heading home. How long had she been outside? Had she seen Bitty with Jack, or seen him leave?

“Uh, I…” Jack says, his mind a mess of thoughts and anxiety. Larissa--Lardo, Jack mentally corrects himself (she’d berated him the last time he’d call her Larissa while she’d interviewed him for a holiday piece for the Falconers)--is in charge of the ice crew, which means she’s essentially Bitty’s boss. Had that been the reason for Bitty’s sudden departure?

“Was that Bitty I saw leaving?” Lardo asks.

“Ah, yeah, it was. He was… I mean, I thought… but I guess he was in a hurry? I’m sure if he saw you, he would’ve stayed and said hi?” Would he though? Jack thinks he knows Bitty well enough to know that he wouldn’t have been rude to his boss, right?

Lardo stares at him, her eyes narrowed like she’s studying him. “Bitty did see me.” Jack doesn’t know what to say to that, but luckily for him, she continues, “I think that might have been why he left so quickly.”

Brow furrowed, Jack looks down at Lardo, unsure what she means.

“I’m sorry for that, Jack. I think I might have scared him off.” She laughs a little, like it’s a joke, but Jack can’t find the humor in it.

“It might’ve been me,” Jack mumbles, more to himself, though he’s sure Lardo heard it. They’re not friends, exactly, but Jack likes Lardo. She's the only one he’s comfortable talking with while on camera. If he has to film a piece for the team, the media team always tries to get Lardo to ask Jack the questions or give him direction if she’s available. He’s less his “hockey robot” self, he supposes, when he’s with Lardo.

“I really don’t think it’s you, Jack, I promise. I… well I know Bitty admires you. He doesn’t leave treats and notes at anyone else’s lockers, even though Tater’s asked.”

Jack shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat. He’d notice that too, but didn’t want to put any weight to that fact. Bitty gives him extras to give to the rest of the team if he wants, but Lardo’s right. He only leaves notes for Jack.

“I thought maybe we… well, I don’t know anymore now.” He’s not sure why he’s expressing all this to Lardo of all people. He doesn’t need to dump his insecurities and anxieties on her, especially when it’s personal and about her own employee.

Lardo quirks her mouth to the side like she’s considering something. After a moment, she nods her head and says, “Did you know all the members of our ice crew have to sign a contract with us that stipulates, among other things, they’re not allowed to fraternize with any of the NHL players on our team or others?”

Jack straightens, eyes widening just a little. Is that why Bitty seems so skittish around Jack when he tries to do something more than what could be considered friendly? Bitty had been looking around the rink quite a bit at the start of their “practice.” Had he been trying to assure they were alone? That no one would see? Was that why he’d been so hesitant to stay? Had that been why he’d emphasized they were coworkers back when Jack had gotten up the nerve to visit him at the bakery?

“Uh, no, I didn’t know that. I guess… I guess I hadn’t really noticed before. That they didn’t interact with us, I mean,” he adds.

“Considering how much more interaction Bitty has with the team now via Divebomb, I’m sure we could… edit his contract somehow. He has an individualized one anyway because of his figure skating routines. I don’t see why we couldn’t… tweak it.”

“Oh? Is that… possible?”

“I’m sure it is. The problem is, I’m not really familiar with the legal jargon particulars, and our lawyers are pretty busy. But, if you know someone who could help, maybe take a look at it and see if there’s a chance? I’d be happy to talk to them about the contract.”

Jack smiles because he knows exactly who could help. “I may know of someone. Can I give him your number?”

“Of course, Jack.” She rummages around in her purse until she pulls out a small card and hands it over to Jack. “It was nice to see you, Jack. Good luck at Friday’s game. Have a good evening.”

She gives Jack one last smile and heads off to her car. Jack stares down at the card in his hand and bites his lip, feeling a sliver of hope start to creep into his heart.

He pulls out his phone as he walks to his car and dials the one person that has the power to make or break his hopes.

“ _Jackie, my well-endowed-of-both-mind-and-ass amigo, what can I do for you?_ ”

“Can I ask for a favor?” Quickly before Shitty can complain about Internet rabbit holes, “It’s a lawyerly request.”

“ _I’m listening._ ”


	9. Chapter 9

**Bitty**

It’s been several weeks since that “hockey practice” with Jack, and Bitty has done his best to stick to his guns in avoiding Jack. He’s stopped leaving treats and notes in Jack’s locker, and if he even sees Jack in the distance, he turns around and walks the other direction (and, even on a few occasions, hides).

The only times he can’t really avoid Jack are when he’s shoveling snow during the game, and Jack stands in Bitty’s path (and Bitty knows it’s on purpose). He tries to be his Southern gentleman self and mutters "excuse me," and Jack usually obliges and moves, though he tries to say “Hi,” or give Bitty a compliment about the intermission act. Bitty _has_ to be polite (his momma would be ashamed if he wasn’t), so he says thank you and tries to ignore his heated face and concentrate on his job.

It seems Jack’s even recruited everyone else on his team to interrupt Bitty’s route during home games, or maybe they’ve noticed their captain’s infatuation with Bitty and decided to help on their own. When Jack’s not on the ice, another Falconer will stand in Bitty’s way and when he excuses himself, they say something about how “Jack thought you were great,” and “Zimms can’t stop talking about your skating.” On one memorable occasion, Alexi Mashkov stops Bitty and says “Zimmboni say you make the treats but you don’t make anymore? If he mean, tell me, I say something so I get treats again.”

(After that game, Bitty makes a special batch of honey cake and hides it in Tater’s locker because he felt so bad to deprive the Russian of treats so much he’d be willing to threaten his Captain to get them back.)

The problem is that it’s not just the other Falconers players and even the other ice crew members that have noticed Jack’s interruption of Bitty at every home game they play. Bitty is well-versed in social media and Twitter, and though he has a locked account, he’s gotten plenty of people requesting access, asking him if he’s the cutie the captain of the Falconers always talks to while they clean the ice. He’s even seen the occasional hashtag used by some of the fans. He hopes and prays on Aunt Judy’s award-winning jam recipe that it doesn’t start trending.

It gets to be too much when Chowder asks Bitty if he saw that someone asked Jack about the blond ice-crew member in a post-game scrum. 

“They _what?!_ ” Bitty shouts, nearly dropping the tray of scones he was pulling out of the oven.

“Careful, Bits! I’m sorry I said it. Don’t burn yourself!” Chowder says, waving his hands around like he can take the tray from Bitty without any oven mitts on.

“Chowder, honey, I’m fine. Let me set this down, and you can begin again.” Bitty sets the tray on the counter, takes a breath, removes his mitts, and looks at Chowder, expectant.

“I… well I was flipping through the channels last night, and they had post-game stuff on, and I mean it wasn’t the Sharks, but it’s your team, you know, so I thought I’d see how they did, if maybe they’d show part of your routine, or something.”

Trying to retain his patience and sound as calm as possible. “Sweetie, you mentioned something about Jack’s interview?”

“Oh, yes, so they had interviewed Jack after the game, and one of the reporters asked about you. Well, I mean I assumed it was you because they said ‘the little blond ice guy,’ which there’s really only you that would fit that description.” Seeming to sense Bitty’s slowly fraying nerves, Chowder says, “But Jack didn’t really answer, just said he ‘appreciates all the people that keep the ice rink functioning so they can continue to play well and have a good game like tonight’s.’”

It honestly sounds exactly like something Jack would say, but it still worries Bitty to no end. It’s gotten noticeable enough that the _media_ are asking _Jack_ about him? Lord, he’s going to get fired, or even worse, they’ll trade Jack and it’ll be all Bitty’s fault. 

He likes being on the ice crew, and he loves doing tricks again and routines with the mascot, and he doesn’t want to give it up. He likes Jack, but this is too much. He can’t handle this stress, and though he’s sure Jack means well, he can’t keep this up anymore. The last thing he wants is to cause problems for the team, and while he might enjoy being on the ice crew, perhaps he should quit. Tell Lardo that he can’t continue before she can fire him.

He doesn’t want to, but he can’t think of what else to do. He’s so worried about all of this that he ruins two batches of chocolate chip cookies--the recipe and timing of which he should be able to do with his eyes closed--and one batch of apple hand pies--which he could do in his sleep. Bless their hearts, Chowder, Ransom, and Holster do their best to help or tell him it’ll be okay, that things will work out, and he wishes he could believe them.

Especially when he gets a phone call from Lardo asking him to come into the office the next day. Bitty’s heart drops, and he expects the worst.

This is it. He’s getting fired. He waited too long.

Guess it’s time to face the music.


	10. Chapter 10

**Bitty**

The team is on a rare three-day break until a road trip, so the ice crew is also on a break from regular practice. Which means that when Bitty goes into the Falconers’ offices inside the rink, it is quiet and practically empty.

Good, no one will witness Bitty burst into tears and cry all the way back to his car when Lardo gives him his pink slip.

He puts on a brave face and tries to smile when he nears Lardo’s office, but he’s positive it seems more like a grimace than a smile. Maybe he should just wear a neutral face instead of pretend he’s happy and like everything is fine. He isn't that good of an actor anyway.

With one last deep strengthening breath, Bitty knocks on Lardo’s door, and once he hears a shout to come in, he opens the door and freezes.

Lardo is sitting behind her desk, smiling at Bitty, waving for him to come in. In front of her desk are three chairs, one filled with a mustached man Bitty’s never seen before, and the other one seats…

Jack.

Jack. But… Why is Jack here?

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Not only is he getting fired, Jack is probably getting traded or has to get involved with some kind of lawsuit the team is going to file against Bitty. That’s probably who the other man is--he’s a lawyer who has to make Bitty agree to some kind of settlement or something, or they’re like suing Bitty for breach of contract!

Goodness gracious, why had he let things with Jack go on so long? He should’ve cut it off as soon as it started. He should’ve never left baked goods for Jack or notes; he definitely shouldn’t have stayed after practice to be with Jack. He’d played with fire, enjoyed the attention, fancied feeling as if Jack liked him back even though he knew it couldn’t go anywhere. And now he was getting burned for it.

Bitty has to force himself to take a step forward into the office, scared at all the possibilities running through his mind and wishing Lardo had just fired him over the phone to be done with it.

“Man, you look as if I told you your pie was the worst I’ve ever had!” the mustached man says with a laugh. “Which, is the total opposite, by the way. I dream about that pie.” 

“Shitty,” Jack mutters, elbowing the man in the side. Which, what? Was that his name?

“Bitty, please have a seat, and don’t worry, you are _not_ about to get fired. Please, calm down, and I’ll explain the reason for this meeting.”

Not sure he quite believes Lardo, the knot in his stomach still present and accounted for, Bitty does as she asks and sits in the empty seat beside Jack. He can’t even look at Jack right now because he’s still nervous about what in the blue-blazes is going on.

“I do mean that, Bitty. Your job on the ice crew is safe. Everyone loves you, staff and fans included, so you won’t be going anywhere any time soon. You have a place here for as long as you want it, Bits.”

Bitty can feel the tension in his shoulders drain a little. It’s nice that he’s appreciated so much. Though he’s experiencing a little bit of whiplash from the complete change from what he was expecting to hear.

Realizing he should say something, Bitty finally finds his voice. “I, thank you. That means a lot to me. Though… if you’re not firing me,” at his words both Lardo’s and Jack’s eyes widen, and they shake their heads emphatically, “then what, if I may ask, am I here to discuss?”

Bitty finally glances over at Jack who looks at him sheepishly. He isn't sure why Jack would look that way. What's more, Bitty isn't sure why Jack's even in the room.

Lardo starts, “Well, remember when we updated your contract when you started doing routines with the mascot?” Bitty nods. “Because these routines have now become a fan favorite and an integral part of our home game entertainment, we’ve decided that needs to be reflected in your contract as well.”

Confused, Bitty frowns. “I’m… not sure I understand?” He watches Lardo shift her gaze to the mustached man beside Jack, who smiles back at her.

“Mr. Bittle, I’m afraid I didn’t properly introduce myself. My name is Mr. Knight, and I am here in a legal capacity as I am a licensed attorney and though I regularly represent Mr. Zimmerman here,” he pats Jack on the knee, “I was asked by Ms. Duan to look over your contract in the hopes it could be updated to better state the wishes Ms. Duan previously indicated with regards to the team’s commitment to their fans and to you. I’m also happy to answer any questions you might have regarding the contract as well since I did help in drafting said contract.”

“English, Shitty,” Lardo mutters as she pulls out the contract and hands it over to Bitty.

As Bitty looks through the papers, Shitty starts explaining. “Basically, Bitty, my friend--I hope I can call you that considering what I’m about to tell you--your new contract emphasizes that while you will still help with ice crew functions, you are now being employed as official team staff, much like Ryan A.K.A. Divebomb the Falconer is employed. This includes a small pay raise.”

“Oh!” Bitty says, a little surprised and a little overwhelmed. He looks through the contract, but he admits he isn't sure what all the jargon means. He’s also unsure about something else though. Other than Mr. Knight (Shitty?) saying he usually represents Jack, that doesn't really explain Jack’s presence. He looks to Lardo and then to Jack and back to Shitty. How does he ask politely what the heck Jack is doing there?

Lardo clears her throat loudly, and Shitty snaps his head back like he just remembered something.

“I forgot to mention one last thing,” Shitty says, “that your new contract also includes a lovely clause. You’re free to have relationships with anyone you’d like so long as, if it _is_ someone employed by the Falconers’ and it is not your immediate boss, that you disclose that to the Falconer’s front office and HR department.”

Bitty’s face colors, and he glances over at Jack who smiles shyly at him.

“Any other questions?” Shitty asks, slipping a pen from his jacket pocket and holding it out to Bitty. Bitty opens his mouth, but Shitty cuts him off, “Before you ask, yes you can call me by my much preferred nickname Shitty, and no I’m not telling you how I got it or my full legal name. Lawyer privileges.”

He can’t help it, Bitty laughs. This whole thing seems so surreal, and he’s been on an emotional rollercoaster this entire meeting. He’s at once today felt confused, excited, and nervous, and he has to expend it somehow, and he doesn’t want to cry, so he laughs. The others must think he’s crazy.

When he finally calms down, he glances at the pen Shitty has extended to him and then looks to Lardo who’s smiling and nodding encouragingly. Slowly, he takes the pen from Shitty’s outstretched hand and peers down at the contract in front of him, the places where he needs to sign and initial already helpfully tabbed for him.

“So, I sign this and I get paid more but still have the same hours and schedule I worked out before so I can continue working at the bakery?”

“Of course,” Lardo answers.

“And I can date anyone? Like,” his eyes dart to Jack beside, “even the captain of the Falconers? Just as an example.”

In his periphery he can see Jack smile, the tips of his ears redden.

“As long as it’s not me,” Lardo says, and Bitty can’t help but notice the sideways glance she gives Shitty and the wink he gives her back; he files that away to look more into later. “As long as you file the paperwork with HR, you can date anyone on the team.”

“Though, if it were me,” Shitty says, “why go for the captain when you could have all of that Russian potato? He’s--uuf,” Shitty stops, stifling a groan when Jack punches him in the stomach. He’s also seemed to have received narrowed eyes from Lardo as well.

“By that I mean, you should sign it already so I can stop hearing Jack fretting about all of this.”

Jack glares at Shitty but quickly softens his gaze when he switches it back to Bitty. He gives Bitty a half-smile, and lord this boy. Did he really do all of this just so he could date Bitty? 

He gets his answer when Bitty finally signs and initials where he needs to on the contract, and as soon as he’s signed the last spot, Jack takes the pen out of Bitty’s hand.

“Bitty, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”

Grinning, Bitty pretends to think about this, mainly so he can get his heart under control, and says, “I’d love to.”

Jack’s smile widens, and Bitty knows they look like fools smiling at each other but he can’t find it in him to care right now. He tries to savor the moment, Jack Zimmerman has just asked him on a date, the Jack Zimmerman he’s had a crush on for several years, who, in the past several months, he’s fallen in love with over smiles and small talk, discussions of desserts, game-time interruptions, and hockey lessons.

Shitty interrupts them with a woop of excitement. He high-fives Lardo, who rolls her eyes fondly. Bitty stands and hands over the signed contract to Lardo, Jack and Shitty standing as well.

“Thank you for this, Lardo,” Bitty says with sincerity.

“Of course, Bits,” she stands and shakes Bitty’s hand, patting the top of his hand with her other one.

“So, Jackster, where are you taking our figure skating extraordinaire? I do know of a great place--”

“Actually,” Bitty interrupts, “I can’t go.” Jack’s brow furrows, and Shitty’s mouth drops open. Quickly, Bitty continues, voice teasing, “I have to tell the front office and file the paperwork with HR.”

Jack breathes out a sigh of relief, and Shitty chuckles, smacking Jack on the shoulder. Lardo rolls her eyes again.

“It’s fine, Bitty, you can take care of it later.” She waves them away, “Now, get out of my office already and have fun.”

Giggling, Bitty opens the door and steps out, Jack following close behind him. Bitty notes that Shitty stays behind as the door shuts after Jack, and while he could be staying to finish up the contract, he doesn’t think that’s the only reason. He’ll have to ask Jack about it later.

Speaking of Jack, the man continues to follow Bitty out into the hallway, and once they’re well enough away from the offices, Jack catches up to Bitty and gently pulls him into a corner alcove, hidden from view.

“Is… Was that okay? I’m sorry we sort of ambushed you. I kind of assumed you would be alright with all of this, but that was dumb. I just couldn’t think of any other way to date you, and I really wanted to date you. Is that okay?”

Bitty stares at Jack, eyes wide, during his entire, well, to put it nicely, _rambling_ , and boy, does it just make his heart melt even more. This boy.

“You, Jack Zimmerman, are ridiculous,” Bitty says right before he jumps up and pulls Jack down into a kiss.

It’s a thousand times better than he’s imagined, and though Jack is shocked at first, he quickly wraps his arms around Bitty’s waist and picks him up, lips still pressed to his.

“So, everything’s okay?” Jack mutters against Bitty’s lips.

Giggling, Bitty nods. “Yes, sweetie. Everything’s absolutely perfect.”

And it really is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my betas who helped me out in a pinch (because I'm a total procrastinator) and beta'd so quickly!!! I'm glad I was able to participate in this and absolutely loved the edit that was made for this fic! Go send [Max](https://transzimmermann.tumblr.com/) lots of love for it!
> 
> Some notes if you're wanting to know more:  
> In case you're curious, Dustin is real (though his characterization I made up) and works on the Pittsburgh Penguins ice crew. If you need a visual his picture can be found [here](https://www.nhl.com/penguins/arena/ice-crew-team).
> 
> The Philadelphia Flyers [really did try to have an all men ice crew](https://ftw.usatoday.com/2014/10/philadelphia-flyers-bring-back-ice-girls) and they were booed by fans so much, they switched it back. Gotta love Philly.
> 
> Though I did fudge some things regarding ice crew auditions, routines, and practices, the Penguins have some old ice crew audition videos [here](https://www.nhl.com/penguins/video/2016-ice-crew-auditions/c-44381203) and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wYPiHxs1-k) to base things on. I also asked a couple of Dallas Stars ice girls about the audition process, their other full-time jobs, the pay (it's not a lot), and rehearsals. The basis of the ice girls not allowing to fraternize with the players is both one I'd heard about and one that's discussed (among other things) in [this article](https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2014/06/philadelphia-flyers-ice-girls-los-angeles-kings-new-york-rangers-stanley-cup-finals/) (that I'd take with a grain of salt and would note its date).
> 
> As far as Bitty's contracts, I'm unsure how that works and while more than likely Lardo would be consulting team lawyers for the contracts and would not be needing help from Shitty, I wanted to throw some implied Lardo/Shitty in there so I did some hand-waving. *shrug*
> 
> Recipes! *Note I have not actually made any of these, but they looked delicious. If you try them, tell me!  
> [Maple Brown Sugar Cookies](https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/maple-brown-sugar-cookies/)  
> [Maple Granola Bars](https://food52.com/recipes/75743-maple-oatmeal-nut-granola-bars-the-pretty-feed)  
> [Blueberry Muffins](https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/2868-jordan-marshs-blueberry-muffins)  
> [Chocolate Chip Cookies](https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/chewy-chocolate-chip-cookies/)  
> [Maple Crusted Apple Hand Pies](https://bromabakery.com/mini-apple-pies-with-maple-frosting/)  
> [Russian Honey Cake](https://smittenkitchen.com/2016/10/russian-honey-cake/)
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


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